


Telescope Now

by sachi_sama



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Drinking to Cope, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Near Death Experiences, Trippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26485258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sachi_sama/pseuds/sachi_sama
Summary: A concussion turns into something so much worse, and Izaya is left to pick up the pieces. As reality shifts, and ghosts come back to haunt him, Izaya finds the only constant in his life is the person he'd least expect.
Relationships: Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya, Kishitani Shinra/Celty Sturluson
Comments: 126
Kudos: 328





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "This childish  
> Heart won't  
> Wait.  
> It dances  
> Keeps me awake." -- ["The Greatest Light is the Greatest Shade"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WaJkGsBwARc) by" The Joy Formidable

It's a usual busy morning when Izaya catches sight of familiar bleached, messy hair. He considers his options, wondering if it might be in his best interest to let Shizuo pass by unprovoked. Izaya's got a deadline coming up and a meeting to get to, not to mention his stomach is a little sour from leaving his apartment without breakfast. He could wait until Shizuo passes, make his way to the nearest cafe, and the rest of his day could go without a hitch, but somehow the thought of another mundane day has Izaya's face scrunching in irritation. His work isn't _normal_ by any means, nor is his life, but he thinks if it ever started to be predictable, he really might lose his mind for good.

He watches Shizuo, wondering when might be the best time to intercept him, but he pauses when he hears Shizuo's laugh ring out. It's bright, unbridled, happy. Izaya rarely sees Shizuo like this, and he's never seen Shizuo like this up close. By far, this is the most Izaya has ever hated Shizuo. This is the most hate Izaya thinks he's capable of.

Still, he isn't making himself known.

Shizuo passes by with Tom and Vorona, still chuckling about something Izaya didn't hear. All of them are in their own little bubble, and to anyone who didn't know them, they might seem vulnerable. Izaya grins at that, thinks of false perceptions. He really shouldn't interrupt their day, not when there's so much else to do. Shizuo likely wouldn't stop chasing Izaya for over an hour, and even afterwards, Izaya knows staying in Ikebukuro means Shizuo will keep hunting him. It's better for Shizuo not to know Izaya is even in the city at all.

He steps out onto the sidewalk anyway.

It's an instantaneous reaction. Shizuo's happy, contented expression is replaced entirely, and Izaya knows if nothing else, he's succeeded in ruining Shizuo's morning. Shizuo steps closer, his teeth bared, fists clenched. He growls something, but Izaya barely hears it, doesn't need to. It's the same old song and dance, and Izaya knows it by heart.

He turns and books it, and he can tell without looking back that Shizuo is hot on his heels. It's strange, really, that his least favorite person— monster— is always the one who makes Izaya feel most alive. It's probably an animal instinct, something leftover from the past. Shizuo is a predator, after all, another breed entirely. More than that, he's _fun_. Shinra has mentioned, more than once, that goading Shizuo is akin to self-destructive behavior on Izaya's part, but then what does that make it for Shizuo?

“Getting distracted, flea?!” Shizuo shouts, and Izaya cackles as he dodges whatever it was Shizuo just threw. “You're slow today!”

“Faster than Shizu-chan all the same,” Izaya mutters to himself. He hasn't been sleeping well, which isn't anything new. He's got so much work to do, took on a lot at once, maybe too much. Izaya has always had a hard time sitting still, but at some point he's forgotten how to _stop_. It's unfortunate he ran into Shizuo today, but what was he supposed to do? Leave Shizuo in peace? _Never._

He's propelling himself forward, and he thinks he's finally gaining enough momentum to lose Shizuo, but what he loses is something much more significant. He hears a honking, some shouts, a woman screaming. He feels pain all _over_ , and then his vision goes black.

***

When he comes to, no time seems to have passed. He tastes blood in his mouth and realizes he bit his tongue when he fell. He's flat on his back, concrete smooth against his palms, and he blinks stars out of his vision as he realizes Shizuo is on top of him.

“Oi. You okay? Flea?” Shizuo holds up a hand. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“None?” Izaya asks. He coughs a bit, choking on blood and saliva. He bit his tongue _hard_. “You're just— it's just a fist.”

Shizuo leans back, eyeing him. His phone is in his other hand. “I'm gonna call Shinra.”

“Don't bother, I'm fine. Fuck...” Izaya looks around. A crowd has gathered, circling them, and Izaya thinks of sharks in the water. “I can walk.”

“Your head's bleeding.”

“Was I hit?” Izaya asks. He looks around for a truck, but he never saw what it looked like.

“No,” Shizuo says. He holds his phone up to his ear, and Izaya realizes Shizuo is calling Shinra anyway. “You weren't hit.”

Izaya barely registers Shizuo's conversation with Shinra. He's foggy, unsure of details, and his head is _pounding_. He presses his hand into his hair and winces as pain shoots through him. When he looks at his fingers, they're covered in blood.

“I can walk,” Izaya says again. His legs seem to be fine, everything seems to be fine. It's just his head that's hurting, and Izaya has been concussed before. He stands and wobbles a bit, and Shizuo is on his feet in an instant.

“Izaya, _stop_. You're hurt.”

“I wasn't hit,” Izaya argues. “Did you save me?”

Shizuo glares at him before barking something else into the phone, and Izaya finds himself lowering back to the ground. His stomach is uneasy, and everything about this feels wrong somehow, like he's not in the right place or time. He draws his knees up and rests his head against them, feeling like he's dreaming.

Shinra arrives pretty fast. He's babbling something about already being in the area, and then he's pressing his fingers roughly into Izaya's hair and over the growing lump. Izaya hisses in pain and jolts back. Shinra laughs.

“You're fine if you can complain, Izaya-kun!”

“I don't think that's how pain works,” Izaya mutters. He's noticed that Shizuo is still standing off to the side, smoking as he observes.

“You should come over. You'll need monitoring.” Shinra checks over the rest of Izaya before deeming him fit enough to be moved. “Can you walk?”

“ _Yes,”_ Izaya snaps, but when he stands, his legs feel like jelly. “I already said I could.” He winds up blacking out before he can take a step.

***

As it turns out, it _is_ a concussion, a pretty bad one. His head ends up needing stitches, and Izaya is surly and irritated by the time Shinra is finally leaving him alone. Shinra's guest bed isn't comfortable, but the room is quiet and private. Izaya wonders if Shizuo is still out there with Shinra and Celty, but then he decides he doesn't want to know the answer.

It's hard to focus at all, but time is definitely passing. Izaya keeps dozing off and waking to different lighting in the room, usually to Shinra jabbing him. It takes a while for Izaya to feel up for talking, but when he does, he blurts out the only thing he can think of.

“Shizu-chan saved my life, didn't he?”

Shinra hums and writes something down on a chart.

“He did. Tackled you right out of the way from an incoming truck.”

Izaya frowns and tries to make sense of that answer.

“What's wrong? Unhappy you were saved by Shizuo-kun? Or just unhappy you were saved?” Shinra asks, and he grins as he plops into the seat next to the bed. “You should be grateful. You probably would've died if you were struck.”

“Don't tell me how to feel about my own mortality,” Izaya says. “It's rude.”

“You've always called him a monster, but he was human enough to save you! Maybe this is your new lease on life. You can become a better person,” Shinra quips.

“Does that mean I'll finally get better friends?”

“Maybe! I don't have any intention of changing, though.”

“Of course not.” Izaya grins and covers his eyes with his hands, rubbing at them as incredulous laughter escapes him. “Fuck. This can't be real, right? Shizu-chan saving me?”

“He's a good person,” Shinra says, and he swats at Izaya when Izaya just laughs harder. “I mean it!”

“He's barely a person at all.” Izaya uncovers his face and stares listlessly up at the ceiling again. Where does this leave him? Should he thank Shizuo, be indebted to him? Should he stop trying to make Shizuo's life a living hell?

“What are you thinking about?” Shinra asks, and he smiles when Izaya turns to him.

“I didn't ask him to save me.”

Shinra sighs and leans onto the bed, his hand tugging at Izaya's sleeve.

“I'm not saying you should thank him or anything. He'd probably be mad if you did, actually. But maybe just try and hate him a little less, huh? I think you can do that much.”

“Maybe I can't,” Izaya says. “Maybe seeing him as anything other than a monster is a fate worse than death. Maybe this was his plan all along, to torture me.”

“You're being dramatic. Now I _know_ you're fine!”

They wind up playing cards. Izaya's headache is at a tolerable level, due to the pills Shinra gave him. Shinra's presence is warm and welcome, and Izaya's chest aches with how much he's missed this, playing a game with somebody. Usually he's alone, a master of solitaire and his own games, but this is better, much better, seeing Shinra get so competitive and bent out of shape about losing. Izaya considers letting Shinra win a hand, but thinks better of it. Shinra is an even worse sore winner than loser.

“I can leave tomorrow, right?” Izaya asks.

“I don't see why not. You're conscious and alert, no signs of brain damage.” Shinra shows his hand, a full house. He's beaming. “I win!”

“Finally,” Izaya says, bemused. “Here I was thinking that playing alone would be more of a challenge.”

“Liar,” Shinra says, already shuffling the cards. “You look far too happy to be thinking mean things about me.”

Izaya joins Shinra for dinner at the table. Neither Celty nor Shizuo are in the apartment, which Izaya is grateful for. He's not ready to face Shizuo, and he isn't in the mood to deal with Celty pestering him about being nicer to Shizuo from now on. Shinra serves some fried rice with vegetables, nothing fancy, but Izaya eats ravenously, remembering he hasn't had food all day.

“I wonder what's keeping Celty,” Shinra says after a few minutes of quiet.

“She's probably off with Shizuo, both of them discussing what a saint he is for saving my life,” Izaya mutters around his chopsticks.

“Mm, maybe. She keeps odd hours, after all. I love having her with me all the time, but just thinking about our reunion makes me so giddy! I can't wait for her to come back!”

Izaya rolls his eyes and then winces. He rubs at the bandage covering his head.

“Are you in pain?” Shinra asks.

“It's fine, really. It's going to hurt for a while. I think it's the stitches more than the injury.”

“It was a pretty bad injury. You really hit your head hard.”

“So you've said,” Izaya says, letting his hand fall. “Like I said, it's fine.”

“It's unlike you to be so clumsy. I expect Shizuo running into things, but you're usually more careful,” Shinra says, and Izaya nods.

“I've been a little under the weather. I shouldn't have provoked Shizuo today.”

“You shouldn't provoke him at all!” Shinra laughs. “A concussion is less than you deserve.”

“Second chances, and all. I suppose next time I get Shizuo hit by a truck, I'll be more sympathetic to his plight. After all, he saved my life.” Izaya takes another bite of food and then looks up at Shinra. “Have you got any sake?”

“I do, but you can't have any. You're concussed.”

“Worth a try,” Izaya laments, leaning back in his chair.

“I mean it, Izaya-kun,” Shinra starts, and Izaya waves him away.

“I get it, no drinking—“

“Not that,” Shinra interrupts. “I mean about Shizuo-kun. This fight really needs to end before someone gets killed. You came close today.”

Izaya sighs. “Freak accidents happen every day. It doesn't matter what I was doing before it happened to me. For all we know, it still might've happened.”

“Doesn't mean you should further your chances.”

“Why not? I'm a good gambler.” Izaya smirks, but he softens when Shinra keeps giving him a hard stare. “What do you care for, anyway? You've never minded our feud before, aside from your desire for us all to be friends.”

“I mind it! I've always minded it! I don't want either of you to die. It seemed kind of...playful, for a while, but you're both getting worse all the time.”

“ _Playful,”_ Izaya scoffs. “We've _been_ trying to kill each other. This isn't anything new.”

“It is, and you know it. You're both out for blood all the time now. I'm so glad Shizuo-kun saved you today. He could've let you get hit, but he didn't. It gives me hope that you two could be—“

“Stop it,” Izaya says sharply. “I mean it. I don't want to talk about him anymore.”

“Izaya-kun.” Shinra is giving him an imploring stare, his jaw set. “No one is going to make the two of you be friends, but can't you at least consider not being his enemy?”

“ _No,”_ Izaya spits vehemently. “I can't consider that, and I won't. This isn't some stupid rivalry that's going to end from one act of selflessness. It's not that simple, for him _or_ for me, and I'm sure he'll tell you the same.”

“Saving a life isn't just an act of selflessness, Izaya-kun. It's more than that! Don't you know how much a life is worth?” Shinra's stern gaze turns into something else. “Or is it just because it's your own life that you don't see it?”

“For fuck's sake,” Izaya groans. He puts his head into his hands. “You never know when to quit. I already said this was a pointless discussion, and you're still beating the dead horse into the ground.”

“I'm determined,” Shinra says. “Finish eating before it gets cold. And think about what I said before you just brush it off! I really think you two would be good for each other.”

Izaya doesn't respond because there's no point. No matter what he says, Shinra will always be trying to get him to make amends with Shizuo, and in a weird way, Izaya is grateful for Shinra's tenacity. Shinra is a selfish idiot, but he's the only person in Izaya's life who actually cares about him. He's the only one who would play cards with him on his sickbed, anyway.

“Did you call your sisters?” Shinra asks as he clears the table. Izaya gets up to help, not wanting to be a rude house guest.

“Of course not. Why would I?”

“Well, you almost died,” Shinra says, and Izaya chuckles, thinking to himself that it's really not as big a deal as Shinra is making it out to be. No one cared when he was stabbed, after all.

“I have no intention of telling them. They'd only use the information as an excuse to attack me, you know? Mairu really has it out for me these days.”

“You have a strange relationship with them. Have you meddled so much in their lives that they don't like you now? Maybe you should ease up a bit, and I'm sure they'll forgive you.” Shinra washes the dishes, and Izaya dries them with a fluffy towel. A bright cursive 'C' is printed on the towel, and Izaya shakes his head at it.

“It's not that. We just don't get along well. I'm sure they blame me for...certain aspects of themselves, and they're right to. I was never a very good parental figure.” Izaya stacks the dry plates together, unsure of which cabinet they go in. He doesn't come here enough to know where things go.

“You did the best you could,” Shinra says with a shrug. “When they get older, I'm sure they'll realize that.”

Izaya highly doubts it. He always took care of their physical needs, but when it came to emotional availability, he was out of it. He never understood their mood swings and their tantrums, and he didn't really try to. Their parents are painfully ordinary people, so the twins got every bit of their eccentricities from Izaya, who didn't think anything of it at the time. It makes sense for them to hate him. He doesn't take it personally.

He goes back to the guest bedroom after Shinra disappears to shower. There aren't any messages on Izaya's phone, not even from clients. Things are quiet tonight, and Izaya is grateful for it. He doesn't feel well enough to spend energy on getting involved in anything.

He dozes fitfully. He's tired, but different parts of him hurt enough to where he keeps waking up. He can't get comfortable on this shitty bed. He needs to remind himself to bully Shinra into getting another mattress, or at least a mattress cover. Izaya longs for his own bed, his own place, but there is a certain comfort in knowing Shinra is right in the other room, within earshot. Izaya doesn't have that at home.

By morning, Izaya is warm under the covers, and for all it's flaws, Izaya doesn't want to leave the bed. He forces himself upright, and when he pads into the living room, Celty is on the couch, her helmet off. Still, he can tell she's looking right at him. She holds up her PDA.

“ _You look funny all bandaged up.”_

“Thanks,” he says. “Make fun of the mortal for injuries. How cruel of you.”

“ _Any lasting damage?”_ she asks.

“I doubt it. I'm nothing if not resilient. I probably won't have work for you for a few days. Things are strangely quiet, and I should rest anyhow. Phone screens are hurting my head.”

She lowers her PDA almost sheepishly, and he finds himself laughing at her.

“It's fine, really. I appreciate the concern.”

“ _Are you going to thank Shizuo for what he did?”_ Her shadows are swirling pensively. Izaya knew this was coming.

“Nope!” he says, and she shoves the screen in his face.

“ _?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!!”_

“I didn't ask him to save me, now did I? Besides, can you imagine what he'd say if I thanked him for anything, ever? He'd probably kill me then and there.” Izaya backs away from her and fetches his coat from the rack. “Believe me, pretending it never happened is what we both want.”

“ _You're wrong.”_ she types, and he ignores it.

“Tell Shinra I'll see him around,” he says as he exits the apartment. He's ready to be in his own bed, maybe call Namie over to wait on him. She'll hate him even more for it, but she cooks pretty well, and he actually likes her company. It's refreshing to be around people so openly hostile. They rarely hide what they're thinking.

Throughout the day, everything is painfully normal and boring. Aside from the twinges of pain he feels, Izaya thinks to himself it's almost like nothing happened at all. He contacts a few of his clients and asks for an extension, calls Shiki to check in and let him know he'll be resting for a bit, but will be ready for more work soon enough. When Namie comes, Izaya pesters her until she cooks, and she even joins him for dinner, though she says it's just because she's starving.

That night, Izaya sleeps well, though he has odd dreams, which is a normal occurrence for him. He dreams of the twins and himself, all young, together in that house. In the dream, he's trying to spend time with them, but they keep going off by themselves, laughing at him for even attempting to make a connection. No matter what he tries, he feels miles away, and in the end, he relents, leaving them alone until they both vanish. He wakes with a pit in his stomach, a feeling that something is very wrong, even if he can't place it.

He calls for Namie, but he knows she won't answer. It's daylight now, early morning, and she's long gone, clocked out on the time clock he installed just to annoy her. He looks up at his ceiling, remembering the dream. It's like a bad taste in his mouth, something that lingers despite his attempts to get rid of it. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, feeling like something is incredibly wrong, but unable to place exactly what it is.

He showers, forces himself to calm down. Nothing is any different from normal, and no matter what happens, being uneasy won't solve anything. He has so much to worry about already, especially knowing other people saw him injured on the sidewalk with Shizuo lingering over him. He considers messaging Shizuo, ridiculing him for stepping in, but he decides better of it. Izaya is too out of it to run from Shizuo right now, or anytime soon. He'll save it for later.

It's not until Namie is near him, clacking away at her own laptop, that Izaya says anything about it.

“I had a weird dream.” He looks up at her. She pauses from her typing, looks up at him with a deadpan expression.

“Okay. And?” she asks. He laughs, pushes his keyboard away before responding.

“It was about my sisters,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow.

“I thought you said you didn't care about them very much?”

“I don't. It's just... A lot has happened,” he says, and she rolls her eyes.

“Do you want their sympathy? You had a near-death experience. Did you want them to dote on you?” Namie is amused, grinning at him. Izaya shakes his head.

“It's not _that._ I always have weird dreams, you know? Sometimes I can fall asleep early like a normal person, but when I'm out of it, I see all kinds of things. I guess this one just stuck with me. It seems ominous, kind of. It made me feel...like something is going to happen soon.”

“Like a premonition?” Namie asks, and her playful expression is gone.

“Maybe? I... I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm bringing this up. I've had much weirder dreams in the past. I guess this one just felt different.” Izaya groans before rubbing at his bandage.

“Feelings are enough,” Namie says, and when she meets Izaya's gaze, she is sincere. “I mean it. If you think something is wrong, maybe something really is wrong.”

“You're being awfully engaging today, Namie-chan,” Izaya says, and she shrugs.

“They're your sisters. I understand how it feels to worry about family.” Her expression changes, and Izaya has no doubt she's thinking of Seiji. He makes a face and tries to get back to work, but he still feels off, a little nauseous, too. He's never felt this bad after a head injury before, and he considers calling Shinra, but it's entirely possible he was coming down with a stomach virus before he got hurt. He hasn't felt his best for a few days now.

“I think I'm going to nap,” he says after a while, and Namie glances back at him.

“Nap? You?”

“I feel gross.” Izaya stretches before standing. He pads over to the stairs. “You can go home, if you want. It was stupid of me to try to work today. Sorry to make you come over at all.”

“And now you're _apologizing_ to me? How hard were you hit, anyway?” Namie asks, and she's grinning. Izaya rolls his eyes at her.

“It won't happen again,” he promises, and he starts climbing the stairs. Namie clears her throat.

“Do you need anything before I go?” she asks, and he's a little stunned. Usually she's out the door like a shot the second she learns she can leave for the day. As it is, she's looking at him with a neutral expression, but Izaya thinks she seems a little concerned.

“I still have leftovers from yesterday. I think I have a stomach virus, anyway. I doubt I'll eat much of anything.” He rubs at his stitches. They're _really_ itchy, and underneath there is a constant, throbbing pain.

“Do you have medicine here?” Namie asks, and Izaya snorts.

“I have my own little pharmacy, courtesy of Shinra. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were concerned about me!” Izaya grins at her, waiting for her to argue with him, but she just keeps looking up at him with furrowed brows.

“You don't seem well,” she says, and he frowns. “You look like you're going to keel over.”

“I plan to collapse right into bed. I'm fine, really. Go home, Namie-chan, I don't know what to make of you being nice to me.” He turns and heads back for his room, and he can hear Namie moving around below. He's too tired to make her leave, and really, she has a key. She can come and go when she pleases. He closes his eyes and drifts off to the sound of her footsteps.

When he wakes, his head is buried in his arms, and he realizes he's at his desk. He bolts upright, his eyes wide as he looks around. Namie is looking at him scathingly, as if he's purposely annoying her.

“Bad dream?” she asks.

“I thought I...went to bed. I went upstairs. Didn't I?” he asks, and she raises an eyebrow.

“You said you were tired and fell asleep right there. Now that you're awake, though, can I go?” Namie is already standing, and Izaya blinks up at her. His head is _throbbing._

“Did we talk at all? I mentioned my sisters...”

“Your sisters?” Namie asks, pausing in gathering her things. “You never talk about them. Why would you start now?”

“Was it all a dream?” Izaya asks. He feels queasy. He needs to call Shinra.

“You're dreaming about mundane conversations with me? Wow. Here I thought an eccentric like you would have a more colorful subconscious,” Namie quips. She pulls her jacket on and heads to the door. “You have leftovers in the fridge. Don't call me unless you're dying.”

“Well _that_ sounds more like you,” Izaya mutters to himself, waving her out. Once he's alone, he stands and immediately groans in pain before flopping back into the chair. His stomach lurches, and he doesn't know if he'll make it to the bathroom. He sits as still as he can while waiting for the vertigo and nausea to pass, and when he can move again, he grabs his phone and calls Shinra.

“ _Izaya-kun! I'm having dinner with Celty!”_ Shinra says as soon as he answers, and Izaya sighs.

“Sorry, I think maybe— Wait, dinner? It's so early,” Izaya says, and Shinra doesn't reply. “Hello?”

“ _Did you need something or can I hang up?”_ Shinra asks.

“My head— I think something's wrong. I feel terrible and I'm nauseous.”

“ _That's normal. You were rattled around, you know? It was a big truck.”_

“The truck didn't hit me.”

“ _Right, right, but Shizuo-kun has more strength than a truck. Either way, just take it easy. You'll feel better soon, but you have to actually take care of yourself. Have you eaten today?”_ Shinra asks.

“No. I feel like I'll throw it up.”

“ _You've probably got low blood sugar. Eat something and lounge around, and if it doesn't subside by tomorrow, I'll come by.”_

“I'm having trouble telling what's real,” Izaya blurts, and there's a pause before Shinra bursts out laughing.

“ _I'm not that kind of doctor, Izaya-kun!”_

“It's because of my head injury, you idiot!” Izaya snaps, and Shinra keeps laughing.

“ _I'm sorry. It's normal to have some fogginess. You hit your head hard, and you aren't taking care of your body. Just relax and stay inside tonight. You don't want to pass out in the middle of the city. I'll come check on you tomorrow, okay?”_

“Right. Okay.” Izaya hangs up then. He knows Shinra is right. He forces himself to the fridge, and he heats up the food Namie made the day before. He's nibbling at it, already feeling better when his phone rings again. It's Shiki, and he frowns, not understanding why Shiki is calling his personal phone and not his work phone.

“Hello, Shiki-san! What can I do for you?” Izaya answers.

“ _Izaya-san, I'm sorry,”_ Shiki says. _“Are you home? Are you safe?”_

“I'm fine. Yes, I'm home— Is something wrong?” Izaya asks. There's static for a moment, and then Shiki's voice is louder, and it sounds almost like Shiki is right next to him.

“ _We were worried about you. I'm glad you're safe.”_

“We spoke yesterday, right?” Izaya asks. How much of that did he dream? Shiki sighs in his ear.

“ _Yes, but something has happened. Unfortunately, nothing could be done, and... Izaya-san, it's your sisters.”_

“My sisters...” Izaya murmurs. He rubs at his head.

“ _They're dead.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my Halloween project! I hope the angst won't scare anyone off. This one will be fun :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "We were standing  
> At Forsythe and Bowery.  
> Flowers and painted forehead,  
> Trying to forget.  
> You can't tell if the ceiling's rising  
> Or if the floor's falling out." -- ["Bowery"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mDRhPIAcKgs) by: Local Natives

Izaya doesn't think he's ever really gotten along with his sisters well. He had too much responsibility at too young an age, and their view of him was always warped somewhere between an older sibling and a parental figure. He's never thought of himself as close to them before. They rarely had things in common to talk about, and after the twins got a little older, they started to resent Izaya and were never shy about letting him know it.

He never thought much about it or them. He accepted their dislike of him because he was the one easiest to direct their rage at. Their parents were never home and rarely called, and when they did, all the Orihara siblings would lie to them repeatedly. It was kind of like a game. Yes they were getting along well, yes they were staying out of trouble, yes they were all leading completely normal lives.

Izaya's parents think he's a boring financial planner, and they think he's much more involved in the twins' lives than he is. It's always been easier to tell them what they want to hear because the truth is, all of them found it easier to live without their parents around. They all enjoy their freedom, and though Izaya resented them a long time for leaving him with the twins to care for, he'd rather go back and do it again than have his parents barging in on his life and his affairs. It's better to leave them in the dark.

He has no choice but to call them for the funeral. It's not really the kind of thing he can keep under wraps. He meets them at the airport and relents to letting his mother cry on his shoulder. They have a lot of questions he can't answer. Izaya still doesn't really understand most of it himself.

The funeral winds up being packed. Izaya knew his sisters had quite a few friends, most of them older, so he's not surprised by all the familiar faces. He _is_ surprised to see some Awakusu-Kai executives in the crowd, and even Akabayashi comes to give Izaya his condolences.

“They were good kids,” he says. “Just too involved in things they shouldn't have been.”

“Family trait,” Izaya says. He can feel his parents watching him, and somewhere in the crowd, he knows Shizuo is there, too. So many different parts of his life are convening in one room, and all he wants to do is get the fuck out of dodge.

“How are you holding up, Izaya-san?” Shiki asks when he joins them. Izaya bows accordingly, but Shiki holds a hand up. “I'm here as a friend and as a mourner. No need for formalities.”

“I don't know how I'm holding up,” Izaya says, and Shiki nods while Akabayashi winces.

“It takes a while to hit sometimes,” Akabayashi says. “It's normal to feel numb about it.”

“It feels like it's not real, maybe. I keep waiting for them to pop in and tell me it's a joke everyone was in on.” He can hear his mother sobbing, and he knows he should be standing next to her, but to be perfectly honest, she's annoying the hell out of him. “Mainly I just want my parents to leave,” he adds, unsure why he's telling this to them.

“I think that's also normal,” Shiki says, and the corners of his lips twitch.

“Your parents, eh?” Akabayashi's eye scans the room and settle on Izaya's mother.

“Don't you dare,” Shiki murmurs, and Akabayashi grins.

“I wasn't gonna! I'm here for the same reason as you.”

“She keeps crying,” Izaya says, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “She wasn't even close to them. She has no idea who they are. Were.”

“Here, kid,” Akabayashi says, passing Izaya a silver flask. “Just a few sips. It'll help.”

“It doesn't help,” Shiki says, but he doesn't stop Izaya from drinking.

“Nothing really will right now,” Akabayashi says.

“I appreciate you both coming,” Izaya murmurs, passing the flask back. “Is Akane-chan here? My sisters really liked her.”

“She is. She's over with her parents,” Shiki says.

“So many members of the Awakusu here. I'm honored.”

“What is it your parents think you do again?” Shiki asks.

“Financial planning. I'm sure they have an inkling that it's untrue, but then they'd have to admit to themselves that they actually know nothing about me.”

“It's rough. Lose two children and realize the one left resents you. I don't envy them,” Shiki says, and he makes his way over to them.

“You wanna hang on to this?” Akabayashi asks, holding the flask up. Izaya shakes his head.

“I should refrain. Things are still jumbled enough when I'm sober.”

“Ah, right. Head injury. That doctor did mention.” Akabayashi takes a sip for himself. “Let me know if you change your mind. It sure as hell can't make things any worse.”

Izaya does his best to mingle, at least to thank people for coming. His parents can't be expected to do it for him, especially when they're being so dramatic. Mikage finds him and puts her arms around him, and he doesn't miss the way others stop to watch them curiously. Izaya's never been close with many people, and he isn't close to Mikage now, but he trusts her, and he's always trusted her with the twins.

“I'm sorry,” she murmurs into his shoulder.

“Me, too,” he replies, patting her back. Physical contact isn't something he's comfortable with. She lets him go in understanding.

When it's time for the service to begin, Izaya feels hot under his collar, like too many people are watching him closely. He doesn't put it past any of his enemies to refrain from attacking him, even here. A few of the gazes Izaya catches are openly hostile, one of which belonging to Izumii's kid brother. Izaya knew his sisters were friendly with him, but he never liked the idea. The boy's gaze seems to say, _“It should've been you.”_

Izaya can't agree more.

At last, when everyone is seated, Izaya makes his way to the podium to deliver the eulogy. He's completely unprepared. He didn't bother to write anything down. He stands in front of everyone and scans their faces, lingering on Shizuo, who is watching him with a strange expression. Seeing Shizuo as anything other than pissed off is always otherworldly, especially when directed at Izaya.

“I want to thank everyone for coming,” Izaya says, and he laughs slightly, shaking his head. “I don't fool myself into thinking anyone came for me, but to know they had so many friends is a comfort.” He winces, squinting up at the fluorescent light above him. It's too damn bright. “Ah— I'm sorry, I'm not actually...prepared. I don't suppose anyone really could be, but to sit and write a speech about my dead sisters was the most depressing thing I could think to do. I couldn't force myself to do it.”

He grips the podium, leaning onto it slightly as his headache gets worse. He catches Shiki and Akabayashi exchanging glances, and already his mother is sobbing audibly again, his father murmuring words of comfort to her while watching Izaya with a pleading gaze, and Izaya is _so_ very tired of being the one of them expected to hold it together.

“I hate funerals,” Izaya says, and then he laughs until his body hurts. “I hate them so fucking much!”

He's barely aware of hands gripping his arm. He locks eyes with Shiki, who tugs him gently.

“Izaya-san, come sit,” he says softly, and Izaya finds he still can't stop laughing. He's supposed to allow everyone else to come say a few words, thoughtful and loving, but instead he's clinging to the podium, refusing to let go.

“Right, sorry. Anyway, after this, there's a wake, courtesy of my parents. We can all eat and party, and in a week or so, I can take my sisters back home to live on my fucking counter. Urns, you know? It'll really liven up my living space—“ Izaya is forcibly dragged away then, and he catches the looks of disgust and pity in the faces of the crowd. He doesn't go back to his seat, opting instead to march out of the building. He hears his father calling him back, but he doesn't stop.

Outside, it's drizzling. It's been getting colder as autumn sets in, and Izaya is glad he thought to wear a coat. He sits on the steps and rubs at his arms, hiding his face into his knees. His head hurts, and nothing ever seems to help it. He thinks it's more to do with stress than the actual injury now, though he's still having a hard time separating dreams from reality.

“Are you alright?” Shiki's voice asks from beside him. Izaya wasn't aware Shiki followed him out.

“Peachy,” Izaya says, and Shiki sighs. There's a sound of an umbrella opening, and Izaya lifts his head to see Shiki sit down beside him, protecting them both from the increasing rain.

“It's never easy to lose anyone. No one expects you to be okay. You must allow yourself to grieve,” Shiki says, and Izaya reaches out to take the umbrella from Shiki.

“No offense, but even with you here as a guest, I'm pretty sure it's still my job to hold the umbrella for you,” Izaya says, and Shiki laughs.

“Allow me. It's the only thing I can think to do for you now,” Shiki says.

“You've done enough. You're, you know. Here.” Izaya looks out into the parking lot, and it really starts to pour down. “I wish Kine was here,” he adds, and then he regrets saying it. He doesn't know why he did.

“Kine-san is in Russia, last I heard. I'm sure he'll be kicking himself for not being here for you,” Shiki says. “He has a soft spot for you.”

“Sorry,” Izaya mutters. “I don't know why I suddenly even thought of him.”

“It's natural to miss certain people when we're having a hard time,” Shiki says, and Izaya frowns, thinks of himself as a warbling child asking for his father. “I'm not as good at comforting,” Shiki tacks on, and Izaya snorts.

“Kine isn't good at it either.”

“Mm.”

The door opens, and Akabayashi joins them. He stands under the stoop, his hands in his pockets.

“Damn. I forgot an umbrella,” he says, looking out.

“It seems rude of us to be out here, doesn't it?” Izaya asks. “I should go back in.”

“No 'should' in a situation like this,” Akabayashi says with a shrug. “Who cares what they think?”

“We can go back,” Shiki says, glancing over at Akabayashi. “You can stay out here if you'd like, Izaya-san.”

“I think it'd be worse to stay outside.” Izaya sighs a little before adding, “It's weird, you both being nice to me.”

“I'm always nice,” Shiki says.

“I make allowances for death. Besides, I'm not here for you,” Akabayashi says, and he's grinning when Izaya looks at him. “You should be nicer to your parents, by the way. They seem very lost.”

“Oh, _Christ_ ,” Izaya mutters, shaking his head. “Let's go before this gets any weirder.”

He doesn't return to his seat. Instead, he stands beside the door while the service continues. He looks up at the black curtain, which is blocking the view of the coffins. It's closed casket, but Izaya is grateful for the curtain as well. He doesn't want to see anything on the other side of it, though maybe if he saw the bodies, it would help make things more real for him. Someone killed them to torture him, but whenever he tries to get details from Shiki, he finds it incredibly hard to focus. Shinra has said this is a coping mechanism, that Izaya's brain is protecting itself from more trauma. Izaya is just ready to feel normal again.

Some people leave as soon as the funeral itself is over. Izaya really didn't want to have a reception afterwards, but his parents insisted, saying they wanted to meet the people in their children's lives. Izaya leans against the wall with his arms crossed, irritated by the sound of chatter and plates clattering.

“Izaya-kun,” Shinra says, appearing beside him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Head hurts,” Izaya says.

“ _It was a lovely service.”_ Celty types, and Izaya barely glances at the screen.

“You should come over for dinner tonight, Izaya-kun. We don't think you should be alone,” Shinra says, and Izaya laughs at him, can't help it.

“Please don't start acting like we're all that close. I know trauma brings some people together, but I'd rather not be reminded over and over how I'm interrupting your time with Celty.” Izaya pushes away from the wall. “I'll be fine on my own.”

Izaya is grateful that time is passing so quickly. His interactions with everyone pass by in a blur, and aside from meeting Shizuo's eyes a few times, Izaya can pretend Shizuo isn't even there. At one point, Shizuo starts walking towards him, but Izaya steps away before they can interact. He owes it to his sisters to keep the peace at least this once, but he doesn't want to send the message that he wants Shizuo here.

When everything is finally over with, and Izaya's parents are back in their hotel for the night, Izaya walks into his apartment and stands in the middle of his living room, unsure of what to do with himself now. He's exhausted, and now that he's alone, he can actually feel the full extent of it. He makes his way upstairs to his bathroom, and he swallows a few headache pills before stepping into the shower to wash off the scent of funeral home.

All in all, things went pretty smoothly, and he won't be expected to make a public appearance for quite some time now. As soon as morning comes, his parents will be back on a plane to places unknown, and Izaya can get back to his usual life. Soon enough, this will all be an unpleasant memory.

He's busy rinsing his hair when he hears footsteps below. He pauses, wondering if Namie came by, or if he's in some kind of danger. He steps out of the shower without turning the water off, and he dries hurriedly, tugging a robe on before stepping into the bedroom, knife in hand.

The footsteps below continue, but it doesn't sound like they're coming towards the stairs. They're running along almost sporadically, and Izaya can't really even pinpoint where they're coming from exactly. It sounds like more than one person, but he can't hear any talking. He pokes his head out of his bedroom door and looks towards the top of the stairs.

“Hello?” he calls. No one answers, but the footsteps continue. He grips his knife and makes his way to the stairs, and then he's looking out over the apartment. No one is there, but the footsteps seem to come towards Izaya and stop somewhere at the foot of the stairs, and when he hears giggling right in front of him, he convinces himself it can't _possibly_ be his sisters.

***

When he finally sleeps, he dreams of the twins.

They're small, clinging to either of his legs as they so often used to. Izaya would get so annoyed at it and try to pry them off, but their grip was always strong. Part of him knew they didn't just do it to bother him; they actually liked him at one point. They wanted to be close.

Mairu is ranting about her and Kururi marrying twin boys one day and living in a giant house together. Kururi is quiet, hiding her face into Izaya's leg, and he's busy fishing through a box of snacks for them.

“I don't _want_ those!” Mairu whines as Izaya hands her a bag of cheese crackers.

“You can't have anything bigger or you won't eat dinner,” Izaya says, exasperated.

“Iza- _nii_ , I want something else!”

“What? What do you want?” he asks, glaring down at her, and then she starts to cry, punching his legs with little fists. Kururi just watches her. Sighing, Izaya steps away from them both.

“Meanie! Stupid Iza-nii! I hate you!” Mairu sobs, and Izaya rolls his eyes. Clearly she's tired, and he's pretty used to the tantrums by now.

“That's fine. Hate me more quietly though, would you?” Izaya asks, and she starts screaming.

“Why are we always stuck with _you?!”_

“Because who else is there?!” Izaya shoots back. The scene seems to get smaller and more grainy, and then Izaya is enveloped in blackness. When he sees the twins again, they're older, and they're not clinging to him anymore.

“Why are you here?” Mairu asks, looking at him. She doesn't looks angry, just confused. Her legs are in Kururi's lap, and they're seated on the couch in their parent's living room.

“I have a key,” Izaya says, and she rolls her eyes.

“You know what I mean. You never come around.”

“I do sometimes,” Izaya says, bristling, though he knows she has a point. He can't remember the last time he visited them in this house. It's so much easier to have them come to him, and if they don't want to, he can blame them while telling himself he tried.

“We miss you,” Kururi says, and Izaya blinks in surprise. Mairu glares at her, and then at Izaya.

“You made her sad!” Mairu snaps, and Izaya steps closer to them, sinking to the floor in front of the couch.

“I'm sorry,” he says softly. The word feels foreign on his tongue, though if he's honest with himself, he's owed them this apology for a while now. He looks into their faces and feels uneasy, like this might not just be a dream anymore.

“You can feel us, right?” Mairu asks, and he looks down to see her hand in his. It feels incredibly real.

“Are you both haunting me?” Izaya asks her, and she just grins at him in answer, her hand squeezing his.

He wakes in his bed with a gasp. It's pitch black in his room, far too dark to see anything. He groans and rolls over, rubbing at his face with one hand as he grasps for his phone with the other. It's a little past three in the morning, and he doesn't think he has much hope of going back to sleep.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. His throat feels tight, but he isn't crying. He thinks maybe if he could cry, he'd feel better about this entire situation, but as it is, he just feels numb. His hand still tingles where Mairu was holding it, and he flexes his fingers as if that can get rid of the feeling. He wonders if these dreams have any real significance, or if he's just in mourning. Hell, maybe it's because of the head injury, or some combination of all three.

He feels around in the dark, not bothering with using his phone as a flashlight. He's lived here for years, and he knows the layout of his own room like the back of his hand, but when his bare feet touch the floor, it isn't his rug he feels below. It's hardwood, and he wonders if he fell asleep downstairs again— but no, he'd see the lights outside the window, wouldn't he?

He turns the flashlight on and looks around. He's in his childhood bedroom, but he's not small here. He's an adult still, and he doesn't know whether he's dreaming or if he walked here in a half-asleep state. Both options seems equally ludicrous to him.

He finds the light switch along the wall and flicks it on. He sees all his old things, books he didn't bother to take when he moved, binders filled with old poetry he'd rather die than have anyone read. This is a dream, then, it has to be a dream, because he took the binder with him when he left for good. He'd never risk his sisters having access to it, and he's asked himself dozens of times why he's never just burned the stupid thing, but it means something to him. He holds the binder to his chest and walks towards the door, anxious about what might be outside this room.

“This isn't real,” he tells himself, and then he opens the door. Outside is the familiar hallway, his sisters' room on the other side of it. Their door is open, and light is flooding out. Kururi's head pops out, and then she's motioning for Izaya to come closer.

“ _There_ you are!” Mairu says, appearing beside her. She puts her hands on her hips and pouts at Izaya. “We've been waiting for you. Why do you look older?”

“I am older,” Izaya says, looking down at himself. The twins are younger here, but not by a lot. Izaya thinks they're around ten based on the way they're dressed. This was after he moved out, after they weren't as friendly anymore. Mairu scoffs and taps her foot on the floor.

“Why do _you_ get to be older?”

“This is a dream,” Izaya replies. “I don't know how it works.”

“It's not a dream to us,” Mairu says, and she gives him a smile. “Maybe you're just thinking too much, like always.”

“I don't think _too_ much,” Izaya argues, and he steps into their room. It looks exactly the same as it did the last time he saw it, which doesn't make sense. If they're ten here, they shouldn't have all these things on the wall, like the poster of _Carmilla Saizo_. It shouldn't exist yet.

“All you _do_ is think,” Mairu says, and then she sticks her tongue out at him. “You think and you think, but you're still somehow a huge dumbass.”

“Stubborn, too,” Kururi says.

“I'm so glad my dreams have kept you so close to reality,” Izaya tells them. Mairu inches closer and then she snatches the binder out of his arms.

“Your poems! We read all these, you know?” she says, and Izaya glares at her.

“You did _not_. I hid them from you.”

“We went through all your things. You're not as secretive as you think!” Mairu says.

“Yagiri-chan,” Kururi says, and Izaya huffs. Of _course_ Namie would let them in. She lives to torture him, not that he blames her.

“I don't know why you'd be embarrassed. They're good!” Mairu says. “And your old paintings. Who knew you were such a softy, Iza-nii?”

“Being creative doesn't make you soft,” Izaya argues, but he knows it's useless. “I won awards before, but then I chose a different path. No use in poems when you're building a shady reputation.”

“So many things you never told us!” Mairu says, and she's smiling, but she doesn't look happy.

“There were just certain things that never came up,” Izaya says. He doesn't know why he never talked about himself with them. He thinks it was because they started resenting him, but maybe it was after he pushed them away that they started to resent him. He's fuzzy on the details.

“When did we stop being close?” Kururi asks, and Izaya stops trying to snatch the binder back to himself. He gives them both a look.

“I don't know,” he says softly.

“Do you regret it?” Mairu asks.

“I don't know,” he says again.

“Are you dreaming?” Kururi asks.

“I— I think so? I must be.” Izaya sits on Kururi's bed and looks up into the face of Shizuo's kid brother plastered on the wall. “I think I had a breakdown at your funeral,” he says after a few moments of silence. “I think maybe I'm going insane.”

“Haven't you _been_ insane?” Mairu asks, and she sits beside him, tucked into his side. His arm settles around her, but he doesn't know if he put it there, or if she did. “I think all of us are a little batty.”

“More fun that way,” Kururi says, settling on Izaya's other side.

“I'm sorry I wasn't there for you more,” Izaya says. He looks up at their ceiling, at the plastic stars he knows will glow once the lights are off. He was the one that helped them stick the stars to the ceiling. “I don't know why I wasn't. I think at some point I just told myself you didn't want to see me anymore. I stopped trying.”

“It's okay,” Kururi says, and she nuzzles into his arm.

“It's our fault, too,” Mairu adds.

“I don't want to wake up,” Izaya says, and finally, he thinks he's crying. “I want to stay here with you.”

“We'll be here when you wake up!” Mairu says, and Izaya remembers the giggling he heard earlier, out in the real world.

“Are you haunting me?” he asks again.

“Did you really think you could get away from us?”

Izaya wakes again, and when he shines his light around the room, he recognizes it as his. He's finally awake, but he doesn't feel alone. There are tears on his face, and he doesn't know exactly what's going on, but he knows his sisters were really talking to him. That was real, it had to be. He remembers their grips on his arms, and he cautiously reaches his fingers out, touching the spots next to him on the bed.

They're warm.

***

He's both happy and sad to see his parents go. Their departure will be a step in him returning to normalcy, but a small part of himself will always wish they were around more often, and seeing them leave him is never easy, especially now that he'll actually be alone. Both of them hug him tightly, and his mother smooths his hair away from his forehead before she kisses him there.

“You look so tired,” his mother says, and he snorts.

“That's rude, you know?” he asks, and she gives him a watery smile.

“I don't think any of us are sleeping well,” his father says, and then he clears his throat. He ruffles Izaya's hair awkwardly, like he doesn't know if he's allowed to. Normally, Izaya hates this treatment, and he still doesn't like it, but he allows it. His parents are trying. Izaya can meet them halfway.

“Please answer our calls more often,” his mother says. “Even if you can't talk long. I just want to hear your voice.”

“I can't promise to always answer, but I'll always call back,” he says, and she nods before hugging him again. “Let me know when you're safely home.”

“This is home,” his father says, “but we'll let you know when we're back there.”

Izaya waves until they're out of sight, and he even hangs around to see the plane take off. He's got nothing better to do with his time aside from work, but he's taken some time off for himself. He can't concentrate on anything, anyway.

When he returns home, he trudges up the stairs, looking forward to a nap. He's not even going to set an alarm, is just going to sleep until he wakes up naturally, but something is splayed out on his bed, making him freeze in his tracks.

It's his binder full of old poems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the kudos and reviews! Here's chapter 2 a little early! This story WILL be finished before Halloween, but as for an update schedule, I don't have one. I'm not THAT organized lol. Make sure you listen to the soundtracks I'm posting. They fit these chapters well. :3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I see color raining down.  
> Feral feeling, swaying sound.  
> But I don't know what you want."--["Alligator"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NunAl4BRVx8) by: Of Monsters and Men

Izaya doesn't see anyone for a while after his parents leave. He tells Namie not to come in, citing that he needs time alone, and she's too thrilled to really question him on it. He has no doubts she's busy torturing her poor brother, but Izaya has his own things to worry about, namely the fact that he's being haunted by his dead sisters.

Being alone more often also means he's on high-alert, and every noise he hears makes him jump, even when it's himself. Sometimes he'll accidentally knock something over and then his heart will start to race. He doesn't want anyone to see him like this, so when Shinra invites himself over and refuses to leave until Izaya lets him in, Izaya is far from thrilled. He knows better than to send Shinra away, as he'll only return with Celty, and she'll kick his door down.

Sighing, Izaya opens the door, and Shinra marches inside like he owns the place.

“Finally! Where have you been? I was—“ Shinra pauses and leans closer to Izaya, adjusting his glasses. “You look terrible.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Izaya says, shutting the door. He's not really in the mood to see Shinra, but a small part of him is craving this social interaction. Izaya has been locked inside his apartment for over a week, and the only person he's conversed with has been Shiki, who has been incredibly kind and understanding about Izaya's leave of absence.

“You should really get out of this apartment for a bit,” Shinra says, as if reading Izaya's mind. “Some fresh air will do you good.”

“I don't want fresh air,” Izaya says, and he steps around Shinra, who prances after him. “I'm fine right here.”

“You're not fine, you're depressed,” Shinra says. “Not that anyone could blame you.”

“Yet here you are,” Izaya huffs. He crosses his arms. “I don't want to go out.”

“Maybe not _out_ out, but you can come over! Celty has been trying out some new recipes, and she's actually really good in the kitchen! I don't make her cook, of course, she just really enjoys it, and it's cute to see her excited about anything!” He smiles at Izaya, who frowns. “Come on. Come spend time with us. We're your friends.”

“Celty isn't my friend,” Izaya says petulantly, but he knows Shinra isn't going to let this go. He runs a hand through his hair, wincing at the oiliness of it. “Let me shower first, at least.”

“Yeah, you probably need it,” Shinra says, waving him away. Izaya resists the urge to stab him.

***

An hour later and he's sitting at the little table at Shinra's place, feeling out of sorts. He watches Shinra drape himself over Celty, and he feels an emptiness inside he can't describe. It's easier to be alone to deal with this kind of thing, and Izaya only hopes the others won't mention how anxious he is.

“ _How are you doing?”_ Celty asks him once Shinra lets her go and disappears into the kitchen. They can hear him clattering around.

“Fine, I guess,” Izaya says.

“Of course he's not fine!” Shinra calls. He makes a little more noise before he emerges with a bottle of sake and two cups, and Celty's shadows flare out from her neck as she whirls on him, her fingers dancing across the keyboard of her PDA. Shinra just laughs at whatever she says.

“You invited me over to get me drunk?” Izaya asks, amused. He's not against the idea, though he'll have to be careful not to overdo it. He doesn't want to spill too many details about the dreams he's been having lately, not to mention how emotional he might become if he isn't in control of himself.

“Sure, if you want,” Shinra says, pouring them both a cup. “You're not driving, after all. I want you to enjoy yourself while you're here.”

Izaya takes the sake, happy to find it's heated. It's been getting colder and colder outside, and when Izaya drinks, it spreads warmth inside him. Shinra drinks his own and then turns to Celty with a smile.

“You'll forgive me if I get a little drunk, won't you? I want to comfort my friend!” Shinra puts his arm around Celty's shoulders. “We can just order out! You don't have to cook! But of course if you want to, I'd love to eat it!”

“ _One drink and he's already babbling.”_ Celty types to Izaya, and he snorts.

“That's Shinra. Lightweight of the century.”

“I am _not!”_ Shinra squawks in offense. He swats at Izaya playfully. “Don't talk bad about me to Celty! Are you trying to get on her good side?!”

“ _Is there anything specific you'd like? I know you've probably been ordering out a lot. I can make anything you ask me for!”_ Celty types, shoving Shinra away, and Izaya blinks in surprise, taken aback by her hospitality. He knows she doesn't like him. He hums in thought as Shinra pours him more sake. Izaya knows what he wants, but it'll be weird to ask for, like admitting some kind of weakness to them. Shinra gives Izaya an understanding look, and he turns to Celty, toasting his cup to her.

“Hotpot! We can always save any leftovers for another time.”

Celty gives a thumbs-up before disappearing into the hallway. She emerges with her helmet on, and types a message.

“ _I have to pick up a few things. Please don't overdo it.”_

“I never overdo it!” Shinra says. Celty's shoulders droop, and then she turns to Izaya, nodding slightly at him before she leaves.

“Seems like she doesn't believe you,” Izaya says, topping off his own cup. Shinra leans towards him.

“I'll be honest with you, Izaya-kun.” Shinra murmurs, leaning even closer. He cups his hand around his mouth like a child telling a big secret. “I'm already drunk.”

Izaya grins, shaking his head. “I knew that already. Why are you even whispering it? I'm the only one here.”

“Ah, right. I'm drunk!” Shinra shouts, and then he goes back to whispering. “Don't tell anyone.”

“Secret's safe with me,” Izaya says. “I shouldn't drink too much, myself. I don't think it's going to help anything.” Shinra falls back into his chair and places his elbow on the table. He rests his chin in his hand and studies Izaya for a moment, his eyes thoughtful.

“You can talk to me, you know,” he says finally. “I know I'm not the best at secrets, and I've been...absent, but I'll listen to you. It's not healthy to keep things bottled in.” Izaya quickly gulps his entire cup of sake before filling his cup again.

“I don't want to talk about it,” he says shortly, and Shinra gently places his hand over Izaya's cup, stopping him from tossing it back.

“Izaya-kun, come on. We're friends. You're going through something terrible and you're going through it on your own. Let me help?” Shinra says, and he gives a warm smile when Izaya looks up at him uncertainly. “I've never judged you for anything before.”

“What a lie that is,” Izaya says, and Shinra huffs.

“Well, I do, but— Hey! Don't change the subject! You judge me, too! That's, you know, why we're such good friends. We're honest with each other.” Shinra removes his hand from Izaya's cup and tops off his own. They toast each other, and then they drink in silence. Izaya hears the click of the heater kicking on, and then he sighs miserably, keeping his eyes on the table as he speaks up.

“I've been having...dreams,” he says softly. “About my sisters.”

“Dreams,” Shinra repeats.

“Yes, but... It's almost like they aren't dreams. It's like I'm speaking to them, like they're still alive, but I know they aren't.”

“That's very normal, Izaya-kun. It's one way to process grief,” Shinra says.

“No, I know that, I mean— _Fuck,”_ Izaya hisses, trying to think of how to explain. “It's like I have normal dreams, and then dreams where I'll see them, and then there's...this other kind of dream. Sometimes I'm watching myself interact with them, and sometimes I'm in control, but it's so real and...I've been hearing some things while I'm awake, too. My stuff moves around.”

“So you think you're being haunted?” Shinra asks, and Izaya meets his gaze. Shinra shrugs, tilting his chair back a bit. “The scientific part of me wants to say it's impossible, but who knows? I live with a headless woman, and you and I have both seen Shizuo-kun in action. There's an ancient sword that turns people into mindless drones. Stranger things happen every day, it seems.”

“Right,” Izaya says, pouring them both more sake. They've gone through the tokkuri Shinra brought to the table, so Izaya gets up to heat up more sake.

“With that being said, I do still think it's a grieving process,” Shinra continues. “Why would your sisters haunt you? Wouldn't they haunt Kasuka-kun if they had the choice to stick around?”

Izaya scoffs, hating that he's hearing Shizuo's name so much. “Maybe it's not their choice. Maybe they need something from me, like all those stupid ghost movies about unfinished business.”

“Well, you said they're talking to you. What do they say?” Shinra asks, eyeing Izaya as he makes his way back to the table with a full tokkuri.

“Just that they miss me. We're in our parent's house a lot of the time, in their room. I always see them younger than they were when they died.” Izaya sits and refills his cup as well as Shinra's. “Sometimes I'm younger, too, and that's usually when I'm watching myself with them from the outside. They're usually memories, things I've forgotten about.”

“Are they usually good memories?” Shinra asks.

“No,” Izaya says, thinking of watching himself yell at them for one thing or another.

“I think you carry a lot of guilt about the twins, and you shouldn't. You were a kid, too. It should never have been your responsibility to take care of them in the first place,” Shinra says.

“You think it's _just_ guilt?” Izaya asks. He throws his sake back and winces. He made it a little too hot. Shinra reaches out and touches Izaya's hand, and Izaya flinches at the contact, but he doesn't pull away.

“It might be,” Shinra says, his voice gentle. He traces patterns over the skin of Izaya's hand. “They could also just be trying to tell you to forgive yourself. I think it's time.”

“You're touching me,” Izaya mutters.

“Stop trying to sound so disdainful about it. You could do with some comforting, Izaya-kun,” Shinra says primly. He drinks his sake and refills both their cups. “I'm glad you told me.”

“Yeah.”

They drink in silence for a while, and Izaya forgets why he didn't want to get drunk. He hasn't eaten all day, and the alcohol seems to hit him all at once, when it's far too late to reverse the effects. Somehow, Shinra ends up in the chair directly next to him, and they're leaning all over each other, babbling about things that are probably getting less and less coherent as they go along. Izaya doesn't care; it feels _good._ Izaya's had no one to talk to, no one to listen to him aside from his dead sisters who may or may not even be there. Just for a little while, Izaya doesn't want to think about anything.

Celty comes back with grocery bags in her arms, and her helmet flies off as her shadows erupt from her neck. She crosses the room to them and seems to wordlessly convey something to Shinra, who starts whining immediately.

“But Celtyyyyyy! Sometimes humans just need to take a load off! It'll be fine, don't be mad!”

Izaya tips his head into Shinra's shoulder, leeching warmth from him, and Shinra's arms absently go around him as Shinra keeps talking to Celty. It gets quiet once more, and Shinra's head rests against Izaya's.

“I don't think you've ever let me hug you before!” Shinra says happily.

“There's a reason for that. You're creepy.”

“You're drunk!”

“ _You're_ drunk.”

Izaya hovers between being awake and falling into a drunken sleep. It's been a while since he's gotten anything resembling actual rest, and he's so tired that his whole body hurts, mainly his head, but with the sake pumping through his bloodstream, he finally feels like he could sleep for ages. He leans more into Shinra and closes his eyes, humming softly when Shinra says something to Celty.

“Are mom and dad coming home?”

Izaya opens his eyes and sees a book in front of his face. He's in his childhood bedroom, and the twins are in the doorway, holding hands, staring at him. They're about five years old here, Izaya thinks, but he can't be sure.

“Huh?” he asks.

“You said they'd call later and we just heard you get off the phone!” Mairu says. “Are they coming back soon?”

“No,” Izaya says, closing his book. He doesn't know why he says it, but he knows it's the truth. “They're not coming home.”

“Oh.” Mairu's eyes fill with tears, and she lets go of Kururi's hand to take her glasses off and scrub at her face. “I _hate_ them!”

“You don't hate them,” Izaya says softly. He remembers this now, remembers this exact conversation. He knows what Mairu will say before she says it, but it still makes his chest clench all the same.

“Yes, I do! They hate us, and I hate them! We don't need them anyway.” She pads over to Izaya's bed and jumps up with him before burrowing against his chest. “You won't ever leave us, right?”

“Of course I won't. I'm stuck with you both,” Izaya says, putting his hand on her head. There's a sound of footsteps as Kururi steps closer to the bed as well.

“Liar,” she says, and when Izaya looks up at her, she's older, in her gym uniform, glaring daggers at him.

“Yeah, you jerk, all you ever did was lie,” Mairu says, and she lifts her head. Her face looks _wrong_ , twisted, contorted. Izaya feels cold all over. “You're the reason we're _dead!_ ” Mairu's mouth opens wide, impossibly so, and then she doesn't look like Mairu at all anymore.

Izaya jumps back with a shout, but instead of hitting his headboard, he finds himself falling backwards. He looks up to see Shinra's worried face above him, and Izaya realizes it was a dream, and he fell out of his chair.

“Izaya-kun! Are you okay?” Shinra asks, hurrying up to help. Celty appears by his side, and they hoist Izaya up and steer him towards the couch.

“Yeah, it was just... I'm drunk,” Izaya murmurs, rubbing at his head.

“Yes, but you were fast asleep,” Shinra says, moving Izaya's hand and checking him over.

“Drunken dream,” Izaya says, looking up at Celty. He doesn't want her to know about the dreams, and Shinra seems to understand.

“Your stitches are healing nicely. Do they still hurt? Are you still getting headaches?” Shinra asks, and when Celty leaves to go make sure nothing is burning, Shinra lowers his voice. “Was it one of _those_ dreams?”

“A lot of questions there. I'm fine. It's probably nothing. I'm just not sleeping well, and I've had a lot to drink. Falling down is normal when you're wasted—“

“ _Izaya-kun,”_ Shinra says sternly, his hands going to Izaya's shoulders. “Come on, don't go back to shutting me out. Talk to me. What did you see?”

“Nothing,” Izaya blurts, and he glares up at Shinra, daring him to argue. “Stop nagging me and drop it. You're the one who said the headaches were normal.”

Shinra sighs and shakes his head slightly before he puts his arms around Izaya again. Izaya grumbles into his shoulder, but Shinra only hugs tighter.

“You don't get to pass out on me and then complain about a hug. Besides, I'm taking full advantage of hugging while I can. As soon as you're sober, you'll go back to being an asshole about it.”

Izaya snorts and leans into it, though his arms remain at his sides. He doesn't hate physical contact, not necessarily, he just never knows how to react to it. Not many people want to be around him long enough to brush past him, much less willingly enter his personal space. Usually when people are this close to him, it's because they're trying to injure him.

“Dinner should be ready soon,” Shinra says when he pulls back. “We should probably stop drinking before Celty clobbers us both.”

Izaya feels pretty sober already. Terrifying ghost dreams are definitely up there with coffee and cold showers in sobering a drunk person, but he still accepts a glass of water when Shinra offers, and he helps set the table when Celty announces dinner is ready.

“Thanks for the food,” he says, picking up his chopsticks. He swoops in and grabs some noodles and a mushroom, and it's so good that he almost misses Shinra and Celty watching him expectantly.

“Well?” Shinra asks.

“ _Is it good?”_ Celty types, and Izaya gives her a thumbs-up since his mouth is too full to answer. Celty claps her hands and Shinra smiles before digging in as well, and then he starts crying loudly.

“It's just _so good_ , Celty! How did I ever find someone as perfect as you?! What did I do to deserve your love and your culinary expertise?! I'll never know!” Shinra throws his arms around Celty, who seems embarrassed by the dramatics. Izaya offers her a shrug.

“Your turn to get manhandled. He's been grabbing me all night,” Izaya says before grabbing some beef from the pot. “This really is great. Thank you.”

Shinra and Celty both look at him with incredulity, though with Celty it's more with her body language.

“I think drunk Izaya-kun is my favorite Izaya-kun,” Shinra says, and then he goes back to eating, though he keeps sniffling.

“I'm not drunk anymore,” Izaya says. “Well. I'm sure I am legally. I'm not ungrateful, you know. It's not like I expected to be invited over and served dinner tonight. I know how to be a decent house guest.”

“You're welcome to be a house guest more often,” Shinra says. “Though really, you should cook for me sometime! You've got that swanky place, after all. And I know you can cook really well.”

“ _You can?”_ Celty asks.

“I had to learn. It's not my favorite hobby. Cooking for one means leftovers, and I'm not big on eating the same thing more than two days in a row unless it's fatty tuna.” Izaya sips at the tea Celty served him, and he grins up at her. “Why? You interested in some recipes?”

She fidgets before typing. _“Yes. I learned a few online, but sometimes they don't work out. I can't exactly taste things.”_

“It'd be strange, wouldn't it? Learning to cook from me?” Izaya hums thoughtfully. “I guess it wouldn't be any stranger than inviting me over for dinner.”

“Izaya-kun, you're our friend. It's not strange at all,” Shinra says, and Izaya raises his eyebrows.

“I don't think—“

“ _I'd like to learn. I really appreciate it.”_ Celty lifts her PDA before Izaya can finish speaking. He closes his mouth and thinks of how to respond, but he settles on saying nothing at all.

After dinner, they refuse to let Izaya help clean up. He sits awkwardly, wondering when would be the best time to leave. As much as he's dreading going home, staying seems equally unappealing. Izaya needs time to be alone after this much interaction. He feels too seen, too noticed. It's something he isn't used to.

“Do you want to stay over?” Shinra asks, seemingly reading Izaya's mind.

“No, I— I should get going. It's getting late.” Izaya stands and retrieves his coat.

“It's really no trouble. I could give you something to help you sleep. I'm sure your body would thank you,” Shinra persists. The idea is tempting, but Izaya can't help the shiver that runs through him. If something were helping him sleep, and he couldn't wake up when things went downhill in his dreams...

“Thanks, really. I'll be fine. Your guest bed sucks anyway.” Izaya smirks at Shinra's pout before turning towards the hallway. “See ya.”

Once outside, Izaya exhales deeply. He shivers at the cold air and considers his options. He doesn't want to go home, not yet, but he doesn't want to be around anyone, either. Furthermore, he doesn't want to be sober enough to feel all he's feeling. He wants that happy contentment from earlier back, so his first stop is a convenience store. He buys a bottle of sake, and checks out with the zombie-eyed clerk who looks like she'd rather be anywhere else.

“Will this be all for you, sir?” she asks.

“Yes, thank you,” Izaya says as he takes out his wallet.

“Haven't seen you around lately,” the girl says. Izaya frowns, not remembering ever seeing her in his life. He's usually very good with faces.

“Been busy,” he says.

“Yeah, going crazy keeps you busy. How're your sisters doing?”

Izaya looks up at her with wide eyes, and she looks back at him in confusion.

“Sir?” she asks.

“I... I'm sorry. Did you ask me about my sisters?”

“Sisters...?”

Izaya blinks and looks down as the card reader beeps at him to remove his card. He takes it and shakes his head, grabbing his bottle of sake and the bag she gave him to put it in.

“I'm sorry. It's been a long night. Thank you.” He hurries out of the store, knowing she must think he's some pitiful drunk. He makes his way down the sidewalk, feeling like everyone is watching him, though he knows they aren't. He's full of nervous, frantic energy, and he feels like he needs to _do_ something, _anything_ , but he can't think of a course of action.

His legs carry him forward until he's standing in front of Sunshine 60. He cranes his neck as he looks up, and he holds the bag a little closer to himself. Why not drink with a view? What the fuck else does he have to do with himself? He can look down at the city from his favorite perch and maybe find some semblance of normalcy.

Rooftop access is strictly prohibited, but Izaya has never been caught before. He easily evades detection, and when he's pushing the door open to the roof, he breathes a sigh of relief. _This is more like it,_ he thinks idly to himself, and then he takes the bottle out of the paper bag.

The sounds of the city are muted this high up. He can still hear the people below, but just barely. He sips at the sake and frowns at it, wishing he bought a better brand, but as it starts to warm him up and quiet his panic, he decides he can forgive it. He's finally relaxing when he hears the door open behind him, and then he almost jumps out of his skin.

Of all the people in the world, it's Heiwajima Shizuo who steps out onto the roof. Izaya reaches into his pocket for a knife, almost dropping the sake in the process. Shizuo holds his hands up.

“Goddamn, _relax_ , I'm just—“ Shizuo pauses, a grimace appearing on his face. “I'm not here to fight you.”

“So you just happened to come here at the same time as me?” Izaya asks in disbelief, and Shizuo's grimace deepens.

“I saw you come up this way. I was here getting drinks with Kasuka, and...” Shizuo observes the bottle in Izaya's hands, and he sighs. “I wanted to make sure you weren't up to anything stupid.”

“Well, I'm not. So fuck off,” Izaya says, and he sits back down, determined not to make a spectacle of himself in front of his least favorite person. He drinks from the bottle as he glares up at Shizuo, refusing to turn his back to the monster.

“Izaya. You look—“ Shizuo puts his hands in his pockets before quickly removing them. He's fidgeting, unlike himself, and Izaya is at least pleased to know Shizuo is as out of place as he is. “Fuck. Okay, I know you don't like me, and I don't like you either, but you're...” Shizuo makes a vague motion, and Izaya looks from Shizuo's hands, back to his face, and frowns in confusion.

“Huh?” he asks, and Shizuo's hands go up in the air.

“I'm _trying_ to be fucking civil!” Shizuo shouts, and it echoes around them. Izaya rolls his eyes.

“It's not legal for us to be up here. I'd lower my voice, if I were you.”

Shizuo turns around, clenches his fists, takes a few steps towards the staircase, and then whirls back to face Izaya, fury clear in his features.

“Are you having a fit or something?” Izaya asks. “I'm sorry, I really can't tell. I'm pretty drunk, and you're a moron, so there's a bit of a language barrier here.”

Shizuo stomps forward and plops beside Izaya, not close enough to touch, but not far enough to where Izaya is comfortable with it. They glower at each other, and when Shizuo's hand stretches out, Izaya fingers the handle of his knife before he realizes what Shizuo is reaching for. Wordlessly, Izaya hands him the bottle of sake.

“Isn't it usually friends who drink together?” Izaya asks.

“Maybe it's opposite day or something,” Shizuo offers. “Fuck it.”

Izaya snorts. “Yeah. Fuck it all.”

They pass the bottle back and forth, and Izaya is too toasted to care he's putting his mouth where Shizuo's mouth has been. He inches towards the ledge and looks down, and when Shizuo clears his throat, Izaya doesn't turn to face him, just keeps his back to Shizuo. At this point, he doesn't care if Shizuo pushes him or attacks him.

Fuck it all.

“I want to ask if you're okay,” Shizuo begins, “but I know that's a stupid question.”

“There are no stupid questions, just stupid monsters,” Izaya says, and he grins at Shizuo over his shoulder.

“Fine then!” Shizuo barks. “Are you okay, or what?”

“Oh, you know. A little under the weather lately. It's been pretty cold out, and I have a headache that won't go away.” Izaya shrugs. “What can you do, you know?”

“Fuck you, you know what I mean,” Shizuo says, and he reaches for the sake. Izaya hands it to him.

“Are you referring to my eulogy breakdown? I've certainly gotten better since then,” Izaya says, though that's debatable. If anything, he's gotten worse.

“I liked your eulogy. I mean, if you could call it one. Part of me expected you to go up there and act like everything was fine, but you didn't. You acted like someone who was going through shit, like an actual person.”

“I tried to be fine. I wanted to be,” Izaya mutters. He laughs softly, wondering if maybe Shizuo sees him as inhuman as he's always seen Shizuo.

“I'd be a mess if it were me,” Shizuo says. “If something happened to Kasuka...”

“Your brother will be fine. He has you, after all, and his girlfriend is a monster. He's probably the safest man in the world aside from Shinra.” Izaya watches Shizuo drink, watches his throat bob.

“Do you just think everyone is a monster besides you?” Shizuo asks, passing the bottle back.

“She's _literally_ a monster, Shizu-chan. She could form a club with you and Celty.”

“Whatever. Can't trust anything you say, anyway,” Shizuo says, leaning back on his hands.

“You'd be surprised how often I tell the truth,” Izaya huffs. He looks down at the bottle and sees two of it. He snorts. “God. Shizu-chan, I think the world is ending.”

“Huh?” Shizuo asks.

“Everything ends, doesn't it? I think I'm losing my mind. Maybe nothing matters anymore.”

“You're just drunk,” Shizuo says.

“Probably. I spent time with Shinra and Celty tonight. They made me dinner.” Izaya laughs. He can't remember the last time he actually laughed. “Isn't that the weirdest thing you've ever heard? They were nice to me. Shinra kept _hugging_ me. Celty asked me for cooking lessons.”

“Flea—”

Izaya shakes his head and laughs harder.

“All it took was my sisters dying, and suddenly people like me! Is that the cost, then? That's the cost of being seen, losing something integral? I'd think nothing of it, but here you are, furthering my theory!” Izaya covers his face. “Fuck it, _fuck it,_ fuck _me!_ I guess maybe life really is a divine comedy!”

“Nothing about this is funny,” Shizuo says. Izaya peeks up at him through his fingers.

“No? Ah. If it were you losing your mind, I think I'd find it funny. I think I'd laugh a lot at your expense,” Izaya says.

“Instead you're just laughing at yourself,” Shizuo says, and Izaya picks the bottle up, lifting it to Shizuo, mock-toasting him.

“Didn't you know the only thing I hate more than you is—“ he stops himself. He needs to shut up. He's drunk, and Shizuo is an enemy. Shizuo hates him. Izaya drinks more and looks anywhere but at Shizuo, who is watching him closely. “It doesn't matter. It's not you going through this, it's me, and I know you think I deserve it. Maybe I do.”

“I don't think that. No one deserves this.”

“I do. I do, and that's why they're blaming me for it. It's why they won't leave me alone.” Izaya jolts as his phone vibrates against his thigh, and he fishes in his pocket for it, frowning at Shinra's name flashing across his screen. He hands it to Shizuo. “Answer him, would you? Maybe he'll think you killed me and he'll finally leave me alone. Oh, wait! Tell him you _did_ kill me. I want to know which of us he likes more.”

“God, you're twisted,” Shizuo mutters, swiping his thumb across the screen and holding the phone to his ear. “Yeah? Yes, it's me. No. _No_ , he's fine, he's— Huh? Fuck, where do you come up with this stuff?”

Izaya maneuvers himself to lie flat on his back, and he looks up at the sky as Shizuo argues with Shinra. No stars are visible in the city, and the moon is far from full, but even the haze over the nothingness is worth looking at. Izaya smiles and reaches his hands up, wondering if anything will reach back for him. He feels weightless in a good way, but he knows he's in for a massive hangover in the morning. It's worth it, he decides.

“Okay. _Okay_ , yes, fine. Shinra— I'm off tomorrow, you know? I'm gonna come murder you then. Bye.” It goes quiet, and then there's the sound of fabric shifting. Shizuo's voice is closer when he speaks again. “Are you going to sleep?”

“That would be very irresponsible, wouldn't it? I'm trespassing, and you're here. You might kill me if I'm not on my guard.” Izaya lifts to his elbows and looks at Shizuo, who is frowning at him. “What'd he want?”

“He wanted to know if you were home. He's worried about you, and apparently so is Celty.” Shizuo makes a face. “What did you mean before? Who won't leave you alone?”

“The twins,” Izaya says. “They're haunting me.”

“Oh.” Shizuo grabs the bottle of sake and drinks, still eyeing Izaya. “Why would they haunt you?”

“Lots of reasons,” Izaya replies. He puts his arms behind his head. “I was a terrible brother.”

“Were you guys ever close?” Shizuo asks.

“We tried to be. At least, for a while we tried. None of us knew how. They had each other, but I don't know how close they even were in the end. They were growing tired of sharing their identities, and I kept telling myself it wasn't my problem.” Izaya laughs again, and he feels wetness on his cheeks. He doesn't care anymore. “It should've been me.”

“Izaya. No, hey. C'mon.” Shizuo shifts again, and then he's hovering over Izaya. “It shouldn't have been anyone. Okay?”

“Oh, _Christ_ ,” Izaya scoffs. He covers his face with his arms. “Are you trying to tell me you wouldn't have rejoiced if I was murdered? You wouldn't have been relieved?”

“ _No,”_ Shizuo snaps. He pulls Izaya upright. “Izaya, fuck, I don't want you dead. I want you to leave me the hell alone. I wanted to beat you up so badly you'd never bother me again, but I didn't want to kill you, okay? I mean— fuck, I saved your life! Why would I do that if your life meant nothing?”

“Hero complex? Proving you're better than me? Guilt. There are so many reasons.”

“I wouldn't celebrate it, and I wouldn't have been relieved. I can't say I'd have been sad about it, but I wouldn't like hearing you got killed,” Shizuo says. Izaya blinks at him before looking away, a snort of laughter escaping him.

“I might've been happy, if it were you,” Izaya says, and then he laughs again. “No. I probably wouldn't be happy about it. No one's as fun as you are to play with.”

“I think you have an interesting definition of 'fun',” Shizuo says.

“I'm an interesting guy.” Izaya looks up at Shizuo, who is still really too close to him. “Who would give you all their attention if I wasn't around?”

“Hopefully someone a lot nicer,” Shizuo huffs. He seems to realize how much he's invaded Izaya's personal space, because he suddenly backs off a little bit. “We should go. It smells like rain.”

“Does it?” Izaya asks, looking up. “You should be a weatherman, Shizu-chan. You can use your nose to predict the forecast.”

“You'll be glad for it when you're not stranded up here in the rain. C'mon.” Shizuo stands and Izaya glares up at him, considering telling Shizuo to leave him alone, but if Shizuo can be civil, so can he. He stands on unsteady legs and sways a bit. Shizuo grimaces. “Do you need help?”

“ _No,”_ Izaya says stubbornly. He reaches down for the bottle, not wanting to leave it, and he loses his footing, slips, and catches himself with a quick jerk of his body.

“Goddammit, flea,” Shizuo grumbles, reaching down to grab the bottle himself. “Why'd you let yourself get so trashed? I drank too, and I'm fine.”

“You have monster liver,” Izaya says. He jumps to the side when Shizuo reaches for him.

“ _Izaya_ , come on. You need to let me help you before you fall.”

“What is it with you and helping me lately? You do know you're supposed to hate me, right?” Izaya asks, walking around Shizuo to the door. Shizuo follows after him, seemingly poised to catch Izaya if he starts to fall. They walk in silence for a while, and when they make it back down to the sidewalk, Izaya grumbles when Shizuo keeps following him.

“Your place is the other way,” Izaya says.

“I'm making sure you get home. You're drunk.”

“Why, Shizu-chan, could it be you just like spending time with me?” Izaya looks at Shizuo over his shoulder and bats his eyelashes. Shizuo's expression goes sour.

“Shut up and keep walking before I throw you all the way to Shinjuku.”

“That'd be a time saver,” Izaya says, unconcerned by Shizuo and his threats.

As they walk, it starts to drizzle. Izaya puts his hood up and shivers a bit. He's at the stage of drunkenness where his exhaustion is setting in, threatening to pull him under. He yawns widely and makes an undignified noise when Shizuo elbows him.

“Why're you walking so fucking slow? Aren't you usually fast?” Shizuo asks, glowering at him. Izaya tries to match his annoyance, but is too tired to really make himself menacing.

“I'm tired,” he mumbles, his voice slurring. He tries to walk a little faster. He doesn't know how far he makes it before his vision goes black, but at least the pain of hitting the concrete never comes.

He's confused to find himself in the park suddenly.

The sun is shining, and there are other people around him, but none of them really have faces. Shinra and Kadota are sitting with him in the grass, both of them in their Raijin uniforms. Izaya looks down and sees he's wearing his, too.

“You must've been having some daydream,” Shinra says. “I waved my hand in front of your face, but you were out of it!”

“I was... How long have we been here?” Izaya asks.

“About an hour,” Kadota says.

“I know it's sunny and all, but it's still cold out!” Shinra says, rubbing at his arms. “I only wish Celty were here to cuddle up to.”

“Why are we here?” Izaya asks, and they both turn to him.

“You said we were meeting your sisters here,” Shinra says. “Isn't their martial arts lesson almost over?”

“Are you okay?” Kadota asks, leaning a little closer to Izaya.

“I'm fine. I think I'm fine.” Izaya stands, looking around for his sisters. No one around them even looks like a person, just vaguely person shaped. He catches sight of the twins crossing the road and coming towards the park.

“There they are!” Shinra says, waving to them with a smile. Izaya relaxes, not knowing why he's so on edge. His eyes widen when he hears the honking of a horn, and he realizes his sisters are in the way of an oncoming truck.

“No! Mairu! Kururi!” he shouts, running towards them, but he can't run fast enough, and upon further evaluation, he realizes he's being held still by someone else.

“Izaya! Stop trying to— _hey!”_

Izaya gasps and opens his eyes, looking up at Shizuo, who is snarling down at him, his hands locked around Izaya's wrists. Izaya hears the distant rumble of thunder and he hears rain hitting the windows. He's inside, he's home, and he's sprawled out on his couch.

“You were shouting in your sleep,” Shizuo says. He lets Izaya go and watches him warily. “You were calling for your sisters.”

“They're tormenting me,” Izaya rasps, his voice hoarse and broken. He covers his face, hiding from Shizuo. “They won't let me sleep, and whenever I try to, I just—“

“Izaya,” Shizuo says softly. He sighs and puts an awkward hand on Izaya's shoulder. “Hey, come on. It was just a dream. You're okay.”

“They're not just _dreams!_ ” Izaya shouts, moving his hands to affix Shizuo with a watery glare. “It's more than that!” He sits up and groans, holding his head as it begins to throb. He hears footsteps upstairs. “Fuck. Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Shizuo asks.

“Someone's walking around,” Izaya says.

“You're probably just hearing your neighbors. Mine make a lot of noise. It's annoying as hell,” Shizuo says, turning his head to look where Izaya is looking. “There's nothing here.”

“I don't know what's worse, the idea that they're here, or the idea that they aren't,” Izaya whispers, mostly to himself. His body trembles with the sobs he's fighting to keep in, but now that he's started to cry, he finds he can't stop. “I don't want them to be gone.”

“Izaya...”

“I'm sorry, fuck, I can't— I can't make this _stop_.”

Shizuo's hand tightens on Izaya's shoulder, and just knowing he's there helps a little, but it's also mortifying. Izaya can't recall the last time he cried like this, much less the last time someone saw him crying. They stay like that for a long time, and at some point, Izaya drifts again, too tired to fight it. He sleeps through the night with minimal dreams, and when he wakes again, it's to a terrible hangover, and to sunlight streaming through the windows. Shizuo is asleep next to him, his head tipped back against the couch, his hand next to Izaya. He's snoring softly, completely at ease. Izaya watches him for a few minutes, and then he realizes they're not alone.

“I wish you could get along with Shizuo more,” Mairu says. She's perched on the arm of the couch, and Kururi is next to her, watching Izaya closely. “We know you actually like him. You're not good at hiding it.”

“I do not,” Izaya says. He looks closely at them. “You're not really here. You can't really be here.”

“What do you mean? We've been here the whole time.” Mairu smiles, and then they both disappear. Izaya leans back into the couch and scoots the tiniest bit closer to Shizuo, closing his eyes and pretending to sleep until he's actually asleep again. The next dream he has, he doesn't remember, but he knows Shizuo is there, and he swears he feels the warmth of a hand in his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting way more fun now :3 I seem to have a thing for torturing Izaya, but listen. Listen. It's out of love. 
> 
> My [tumblr!](https://sachigram.tumblr.com/)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You couldn't sleep for the awful fright  
> That kept you up in bed last night.  
> While curious shapes shift in the dark,  
> They vanish with the sunlight spark." -- ["1940"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5wYegoFJ3sA) by: The Submarines

When Izaya wakes again, it's dark outside. He jumps, thinking he slept all day, but then he realizes it's just raining again. He feels a bout of nausea from his sudden movement, and he quickly sinks back into the couch with a loud groan.

“You sick?” Shizuo's voice asks. Izaya squints up at him. Shizuo is still here? He's on the other side of the sectional, as if determined to be as far away from Izaya as possible.

“Why're you here?” Izaya asks, letting his head fall. He doesn't remember much of the night before after deciding to go to Sunshine 60. He definitely doesn't remember how he got home.

“Wow. Did you just entirely forget about last night, or are you still waking up?” Shizuo says, and Izaya rolls so he can look at Shizuo without lifting his head.

“We didn't fuck, did we?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo chokes on his own saliva, his face going bright red as he coughs.

“What?! No! What the fuck?!”

“Ah. Then I guess it doesn't matter what happened,” Izaya says. He pulls his coat a little tighter around himself. He wants a blanket, but he doesn't want to move, and he's damn sure not going to ask Shizuo to get him one.

“It matters,” Shizuo says. He's got his feet propped on the coffee table, and Izaya considers berating him for it, but he lets it go. Shizuo must have helped him home.

“How pathetic am I?” Izaya asks, chuckling at his own misfortune. “Reduced to being helped by someone who wants me dead. Is this what rock bottom is like?”

“Stop being dramatic,” Shizuo huffs. “You got drunk. It happens. I'd be wasted all the time if I were you.”

“Ah.”

“I mean— fuck, that came out wrong. It's just that you're, you know, going through stuff, and I'm just saying if it were me, I wouldn't be able to handle it,” Shizuo babbles. Izaya smirks.

“What about any of this makes you think I'm handling it?”

“It just seems like you're the type that can handle anything,” Shizuo says.

“Shizu-chan, you don't know a thing about me. I guess that's commonplace for you, isn't it? Not knowing things.” Izaya tries to glare at Shizuo, but it's more effort than it's worth, being an asshole when he feels this bad. “Why did you stay the night here?”

“It was raining,” Shizuo says. “Also you were...upset. I don't know, I guess I thought it'd make me look even worse to leave before you woke up. I should have, though, since you don't even remember half of what you said.”

Izaya frowns, hating this. What the hell did he _say?_ Surely, even drunk, he wouldn't go professing all his secrets to Shizuo, right? He really doesn't need another reason for anyone to pity him right now, and it's not like he's ever held on to the hope that Shizuo returns his desires. He decided a long time ago that if he couldn't have Shizuo's affesctions, he'd accept all of Shizuo's hatred. This is old news, nothing worth fretting over.

Right?

“What did I say?” Izaya asks.

“Uh.” Shizuo rubs the back of his neck, and Izaya is mortified, on pins and needles as he waits for Shizuo to keep talking. “You cried. Like, a lot. It was kind of concerning. You were even crying while you were asleep.”

“Oh. That's all?”

“That's _all?”_

“I can live with crying while drunk. Maybe I'm a sad drunk. I don't get drunk often enough to know.” Izaya tilts his head toward the TV and snorts. Shizuo is watching a home renovation show.

“You also passed out in the middle of the sidewalk. I guess you blacked out from the alcohol. I didn't know how drunk you were until we were moving. I should've stopped you from drinking so much,” Shizuo says.

“Stop acting like you're responsible for me. It's annoying.”

“You're annoying,” Shizuo counters maturely.

Izaya is going to tell Shizuo to leave, but it sticks in his mouth, refuses to come out. Shizuo looks nice like this, in the dim light from Izaya's living room, his white sleeves rolled up and his hair tousled from crashing on the couch. Izaya just wishes he could watch Shizuo stuffing his face with food to complete the image. It's like observing a wild animal in its natural habitat after getting used to only seeing images of it hunting. Maybe Shizuo feels the same way about Izaya, because despite his casual demeanor, he doesn't seem very at ease. Maybe he thinks Izaya is about to attack when in actuality, Izaya can barely lift his own head.

“Do you need something?” Shizuo asks suddenly. Izaya realizes he was staring.

“No.” Izaya watches a woman on the TV have a breakdown about her counters being too dark. Everything about this situation is so bizarre that Izaya can't grasp it's actually happening. “Am I still asleep?” he asks, expecting his sisters to emerge from somewhere.

“Stop being weird,” Shizuo says with a grimace, and Izaya laughs.

“I think maybe I've finally gone insane. I don't recognize dreams from reality anymore. They all just blend together.”

“You mentioned that before.”

Izaya grumbles, tries again to remember the night before. He recalls bits and pieces, knows he was an emotional wreck. It's possible he spilled his guts to Shizuo and Shizuo is just being nice about it. Then again, Shizuo has never been nice about anything before, so Izaya doubts it.

“Can you do me a favor?” Izaya asks suddenly, and Shizuo blinks at him. “Well. Multiple favors, actually.”

“What?”

“Can you go to the medicine cabinet and get me some ibuprofen? It's in my bathroom upstairs. Also a glass of water— and a blanket. It's freezing in here.” Izaya shivers in emphasis.

Shizuo narrows his gaze at Izaya before standing and shuffling away. Izaya hugs his coat tighter around himself. It's really too cold, and he wants to adjust the heat, but he doesn't want to move. Asking Shizuo to adjust the thermostat would be like challenging the gods. Izaya has no doubts Shizuo would break the thermostat into something completely unrecognizable, an avant-garde masterpiece.

Shizuo returns with a grunt. He tosses a heavy blanket over Izaya's head, and sets the pills and water on the table. Izaya adjusts, recognizing the fabric of the blanket.

“You brought the duvet from my bed,” he says, amused.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know where you keep extra blankets?” Shizuo asks defensively.

Izaya hums and lifts up to grab the pills. He pauses, groaning as the room spins around him. Carefully, he sets the pills back down and stands, hurrying to the bathroom where he collapses in front of the toilet and vomits until his stomach is even emptier than it was before.

“Now _this_ is rock bottom,” he murmurs, leaning back and flushing the toilet with his foot. He stays on the floor for a few moments, trying to decide whether he should throw up more, or risk taking the pills now. He stands and leans against the counter, looking at himself in the mirror. His reflection seems to blur around the edges, almost as if he's just an illusion. He sneers at himself. “I don't have time for this today. Not while _he's_ here. Torture me later.”

“Are you talking to yourself?” Shizuo's voice asks, muffled from the wood of the door.

“Does that make you feel left out?” Izaya asks.

“Nah, knock yourself out. I'm gonna order food. You don't have anything here. What do you want?”

Izaya pauses, looking at the door in disbelief. He opens it, and Shizuo stands there, scowling at him.

“Well?” Shizuo barks.

“You're having food delivered here?” Izaya asks, giddy in spite of himself that Shizuo isn't leaving any time soon. “Get whatever you want. I don't think I'll be eating for a while unless I want to keep barfing.”

“Eh, soon enough you'll be craving something greasy. Tom-san always eats a lot after a binger.” Shizuo reaches in his pocket, pulling his phone out. He looks at Izaya closely. “Will you turn your nose up at a burger?”

Izaya grimaces, feeling nauseated at the thought of something so unhealthy. “If I do, you can just eat it yourself.”

“Fair point,” Shizuo says, and then he walks back towards the living room.

“What the fuck is going on?” Izaya asks his reflection. “Shizu-chan is hanging out with me.” He starts brushing his teeth. “Am I still dreaming?”

“Nope!” Mairu hops up on the bathroom counter, kicking her feet out as she watches him. “You've been asleep so long. I'm bored, you know?” She reaches out and pokes him. “I think Shizuo likes you.”

Izaya cuts his eyes at her. This is the first time he's actually seen either of the twins outside of his dreams. He looks around for Kururi, finally sees her hiding slightly behind Mairu.

“He seems worried about you,” Mairu continues. “You're way more popular than we thought.”

“You should've seen how many people came to your funeral,” Izaya says after he spits into the sink. “No one came to support me, aside from maybe Shiki-san. Kine wasn't even there.”

“Shiki-san likes you, too,” Mairu says.

“Different from Shizuo,” Kururi adds, her voice small. She sounds upset, and in contrast Mairu sounds too cheerful, like she's trying to make up for Kururi.

“Yeah, I don't think Shiki-san wants to jump your bones. But he might! Oh wow, that'd be something. We'd be loaded for real!” Mairu giggles and waves her arms around. “Hey, get over Shizuo and try to get with Shiki-san instead. Or Akabayashi-san! They're both executives, right?”

“I regret ever raising you,” Izaya tells them. He grabs his headband and pulls his bangs off his forehead so he can wash his face.

“Maybe this is what it will take to make you and Shizuo stop fighting,” Mairu says. “One big tragedy to bring people closer together! It's like a messed up love story.”

“Shizu-chan hates me,” Izaya says.

“Then why is he visiting you?” Kururi asks.

“I don't know. Why are _you_ visiting me?” Izaya counters.

“We're here every day. You need other people, you know, _aside_ from us.” She bites her lip, a nervous habit of hers, and she adds, quietly, “we miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” Izaya says. He looks over at their faces, and his eyes burn. “I don't know how I'm supposed to move on.”

“We aren't going to let you move on,” Mairu says, and she reaches out to take Izaya's hand. He lets go of his facial products in favor of giving them his full attention.

“Is it really you in my dreams?” Izaya asks them. “Sometimes I see memories, but then other times it's like you're both trying to scare me to death.”

“Oh, who knows?” Mairu asks. She grins at him. “Maybe it's your own guilty conscience, or maybe we're just trying to wake you up.”

“You're both rotten. I don't know why I miss you.”

“I wanna talk more about Shizuo!” Mairu says.

“He asks us about you,” Kururi says.

“He does?” Izaya asks.

“Whenever he sees us, he'll mention you. He's kind of obsessed with you, but I guess you know that already,” Mairu says.

“Obsessed,” Izaya repeats, looking at himself in the mirror again. “He probably just feels sorry for me.”

“Would you feel sorry if it was him?” Kururi asks.

“You mean if Kasuka died?” Izaya puts a dollop of soap in his palm and starts his tedious skincare routine. “I don't know. I think I'd be happy if he was in pain. If he was miserable, I'd know he wasn't out forgetting about me.” He rinses his face and looks up to find his sisters aren't there anymore. Izaya takes a deep breath and towels his face dry before applying a moisturizer. Shizuo appears then, his eyebrows rising as he looks at Izaya.

“Wow. Are those cat ears?” Shizuo asks, grinning. He points to the headband.

“My sisters have matching ones,” Izaya says. “Or had, I guess.”

“Food's on the way. Sorry it's more junk, but I can't really cook.”

Izaya pauses and glances over at him. “Shinra told you to babysit me, didn't he?”

“'Babysit' wasn't really what he said,” Shizuo says, and he leans against the door frame. “Look, I liked your sisters. I really think they would've liked for me to...”

“Stop.” Izaya doesn't look at him, doesn't dare. He applies another product to his face and forces his voice into indifference. “Nothing has changed about me, Shizu-chan. So you've seen a glimpse of my personality you don't hate yet, so what? It doesn't mean you and I are going to be chummy.”

“No shit,” Shizuo snaps.

“What exactly do you think you're going to get out of this? My gratitude? Do you think I'm going to stop tormenting you? Allow me to ease your caveman thoughts before you have a meltdown— I'm the same person I always was, and I'm incapable of leaving you in peace.”

“I-za-ya.” When Shizuo says it like that, it's almost like a song, like a prelude to an incoming battle cry. Izaya tenses, can't help it, but at the same time, he's craving for Shizuo to throw a punch. Izaya needs some normalcy, and even if he's enjoying Shizuo's company for some incredibly bizarre reason, a fight would make them _both_ feel so much better. Izaya has a lot of pent up tension, is practically vibrating with it, and Shizuo must be able to tell, because the fury in his eyes evaporates and is replaced with something else, something _terrible._

“I don't want your pity, and I don't want your help,” Izaya hisses, glaring at him. He feels such hatred in his body that he thinks he might sink into the ground from the weight of it.

“I don't pity you,” Shizuo says.

“Right. I'm sure some part of you enjoys this. I'm actually proud, Shizu-chan, that's very cruel of you. I didn't think you had the brain power to be so vindictive.”

“I'm tired of hating you, Izaya,” Shizuo says suddenly, his voice rising. He grips the top of the door frame and cracks it. “It's exhausting, and it's stupid. We're too old for this shit.”

“So saving me from myself is going to make me hate you less?” Izaya spits, and Shizuo growls before taking a step forward.

“Where does this end? Tell me that. When you envision your life without me, is it because you've killed me? What do I have to do to get you to leave me the fuck alone?!” Shizuo shouts, and Izaya takes a step back, can't help it. He's cornered, and they both know it. Still, Izaya isn't capable of yielding, and he's even less capable of shutting up, even when it's good for him.

“I don't _envision_ you at all unless it's the idea of you dying in front of me.”

“Bullshit. You're obsessed with me, you won't even let me walk down the street without trying to pick a fight with me. Why the fuck do you hate me so much?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya leers up at him.

“Because you're an idiot, an overgrown toddler who destroys everything in his path the second he doesn't get his way. You spout your incessant drivel about hating violence, but violence is all you are, all you're capable of. You're a hypocrite, Shizu-chan, and I could forgive so many things, but I truly hate hypocrisy.” Izaya slaps another serum on his face and turns back to the mirror. He's well-aware of how strange this scenario is, Shizuo arguing with Izaya while he's grooming and hungover. This is a new one, strange even for them.

“God, just shut _up_ , I'm so tired of arguing with you,” Shizuo says, shoving Izaya a bit. Izaya caches himself on the counter and turns, a knife in his hand.

“Get out,” Izaya says, and Shizuo looks from the knife to Izaya's face.

“No.”

“I mean it, get _out_. I feel like shit and your questions are idiotic. You're really going to ask me why I hate you? Are you really that stupid?” Izaya lifts the knife to Shizuo's neck, but Shizuo still doesn't back down. Of course he doesn't. “Last time I checked, you hated me just as much as I hate you. Can you tell me _why?_ ”

“Because you're a shitty parasite who ruins everyone's lives. You know all the shit you've done to me! You're obsessed, like I said—“

“Stop saying I'm obsessed with you like you aren't equally as hyper-focused on _me._ Sometimes I don't even do anything! You'd rather blame every problem you have on me than take responsibility for yourself.”

“That's because it _is_ always to do with you, and you fucking know it!” Shizuo shouts, tilting forward. The knife slides a bit, and a trickle of blood flows from Shizuo's neck. Izaya watches it drip down, his lips curling in a snarl.

“If you hate me so much then just _leave!_ I didn't ask for you to help me, I didn't ask for you to save my life, and I'm not asking you to stay now, you fucking _monster!”_

Shizuo throws a punch, and Izaya moves out of the way before slashing wildly at Shizuo's chest. Shizuo curses and jumps back, and the wall cracks where Shizuo hits it. They glare at each other, hatred clear in their faces, and Izaya can't help but grin wickedly. This is more like it. This is the monster he knows so well.

“God, Iza-nii, do you just have to ruin _everything?_ ” Mairu's voice asks from behind him. He whirls to face the mirror, and it's her face he sees instead of his own. She sounds hollow, echoing. Sometimes the twins sound like this, and sometimes they sound clear as day, as if they're really next to him.

“You aren't real,” he tells the mirror. His hand loosens around the knife, and it hits the floor, clattering on the tile. Shizuo looks at it, and then back at Izaya.

“You're really fucked up, aren't you?” Shizuo asks, but Izaya is still looking at Mairu's face. It's so easy to tell she isn't really alive anymore when she looks like this, twisted and contorted. She vanishes, and Izaya sees his own face, hisses and yanks the headband off before he steps past Shizuo and leaves the bathroom.

“Just get away from me, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, but of course Shizuo follows. He watches with a frown as Izaya marches into the kitchen and fishes a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet.

“Is that really a good idea?” Shizuo asks. “You're already sick.”

“Hair of the dog,” Izaya says, pouring himself a serving. He glances at Shizuo, sighs, and then gets out a glass for him, too.

“You wanna share your fancy shit with me?” Shizuo asks. Izaya shrugs.

“Sure, why not? Give you a taste of things you can't afford on your own. It'll hurt that much more next time you're forced to buy cheap.” Izaya pours it and slides it towards Shizuo, and then he raises his own glass. “To you, monster. May you live a long life full of destruction and torment.”

“Yeah, fuck you, too,” Shizuo growls. He takes a sip, and his eyes widen a bit.

“Smooth, right? This is Shiki-san's brand. I don't break it out very often.” Izaya throws his drink back and shudders. His stomach lurches in protest, and he worries the drink might surge back up, but it doesn't. “This is the weirdest day of my life.”

“I've had weirder,” Shizuo says. He leans on the counter and watches Izaya closely. “You never answered my question.”

“I'm sure I'll die of old age before I answer everything you don't understand,” Izaya says.

“Where do you see this going? I mean it, do you really think we can fight forever?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya gazes down into his empty glass thoughtfully.

“I try not to think about you, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, and there _is_ truth in that. He tries very hard to think about anything else.

“If you don't think of me, then how the hell do you come up with your batshit crazy schemes to piss me off? Why can't you leave me alone?”

“I don't envision my life without you, either,” Izaya says simply, and he looks up at Shizuo's confused expression.

“We can't keep this up forever.” Shizuo takes another sip of his drink. “One of us is going to die if we keep fighting.”

“A hatred like ours won't just go away. Hate is a strong emotion, one of the strongest we're capable of. If you truly hate someone, you hate them forever.”

“I don't buy that. You can stop being an asshole, and I'll stop chasing you down. It's as easy as that.”

“Is it?” Izaya asks. He pours himself another glass before he tops Shizuo off as well.

“You're the one who won't let this go,” Shizuo says gruffly.

“You're right,” Izaya replies, swirling the whiskey around in his glass. “It's not possible for me to stop hating you.”

“What if I just stop giving you the time of day? Stop rising to it, like everyone's always told me I should?” Shizuo asks, his eyes darkening as he leans closer to Izaya.

“Do you really think you can ignore me?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo throws the rest of his drink back before baring his teeth.

“I think I'll kill you if you don't back the fuck off.”

“So then kill me,” Izaya says. “I always imagined you would.”

“You _want_ me to kill you?” Shizuo asks in disbelief, and Izaya pouts as the familiar ferocity leaves Shizuo's features.

“I'd love it if I could kill you, but I don't think you're human enough to die. I'm sure one day you'll go too far, or I will, and then you won't stop. You'll kill me, and everyone will know what you're capable of.” Izaya smiles, but it's not kind, and it's not happy. “I win either way.”

“You're crazy,” Shizuo snaps. He slams his empty glass on the counter, and it shatters. Neither of them look away from each other. “Something's wrong with you, something with your brain.”

“Pot, kettle,” Izaya says, and he gets out another glass for Shizuo. “You asked me if I'd leave you alone, and now you have your answer.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I fucking do. You're never gonna stop bothering me.”

“And you'll never stop chasing me. Isn't there a comfort in that?” Izaya asks as he pours Shizuo's glass. Shizuo barks a laugh, and Izaya looks up at him, dazed, taken aback that Shizuo could ever seem so relaxed in his presence.

“God. _God._ Yeah, there is.” Shizuo lifts his new glass of whiskey to Izaya. “Somehow, you're the most stable thing in my life.”

“I do aim to please you, Shizu-chan.” Izaya smirks before he sips his drink. “I bet you're wishing you let me get hit by that truck now, huh?”

Shizuo grimaces as he tosses the entirety of his drink back. “No.”

“Liar. It would've solved all your problems, and it would've been hands-off for you. Hell, you would've had a front-row seat to it! Do you think you would've been in the splash zone?”

“Izaya, fuck, _stop._ I don't want to think about it, okay? You—“ Shizuo shakes his head, tops off his own glass this time. “Do you really not give a fuck about yourself at all?”

Izaya scoffs, not liking the direction this conversation is going. Shizuo was supposed to like the idea, was supposed to lament saving someone who would never change. He isn't supposed to be looking at Izaya like this, like he actually gives a damn.

“Is that why you were on Sunshine last night?” Shizuo continues, and the implications hang. Izaya snorts.

“You think I was going to jump?”

“Were you?”

“Is that why you're here, Shizu-chan?”

“Answer my question, flea.”

“Answer mine!”

They glower at each other, Shizuo leaning over the shattered glass on the counter, and they both startle when there's a knock at the door. Shizuo grumbles and moves towards it, and Izaya watches him go, considers putting a cleaning product in Shizuo's drink, but thinks better of it.

“How domestic of you to answer my door, Shizu-chan,” Izaya lilts. “Rumors will spread, you know? You can't even blame me for it.”

“Fuck you, it's the—“ Shizuo starts, and then he growls. “Dammit, Shinra, what are you doing here?”

“What am _I_ doing here? What are _you_ doing here?!” Shinra shuffles inside, Celty in tow, and they both look from Shizuo to Izaya. Izaya's head throbs.

“Great, now there are two monsters in my home,” he mutters, sipping more whiskey. He feels like he'd rather be alone with the ghosts and his looming insanity than deal with all this at once.

“Did you stay the night?” Shinra asks Shizuo, ignoring Izaya and his dramatics.

“Well, yeah, I mean... It's storming and he's...” Shizuo jerks his thumb towards Izaya. “He's losing it.”

“That implies there was something left to lose!” Shinra says, laughing, and Izaya sees red. He throws his glass at Shinra, but Celty's shadows catch it before it makes impact. “Izaya-kun! What was that for?!”

Rather than answer, Izaya picks up the entire bottle of whiskey and pads towards his couch. He feels them all looking at him, but he's too tipsy to care. They're murmuring amongst themselves, and Izaya is busy tuning them out when someone jumps onto the couch next to him, startling him.

“ _Mairu,”_ he hisses lowly as she shakes his arm. She feels so _real_ , so heavy next to him.

“Iza-nii! I'm bored!” Mairu exclaims, and the entire couch seems to move with the way she's bouncing.

“You're going to hurt him,” Kururi says, appearing at Izaya's other side.

“Look at him, he's already hurt!” Mairu keeps shaking Izaya, who has to fight to put the bottle on the coffee table before she can make him spill it. “IZA-NII!”

“Get off me!” Izaya snaps, shoving at her. It does nothing, as he just seems to phase through her. He looks at his hands, wondering how she can touch him, but he can't touch her. “You can't be here now, I'm not alone,” he whispers vehemently.

Neither of the twins seem to hear him, or more likely, they're ignoring him. They barely listened when they were alive, so Izaya isn't surprised. He feels himself being tugged by them, by something else, and he closes his eyes as a light blinds him and makes his terrible headache even worse.

When he opens his eyes, he's on the roof at Raijin. Izaya would recognize it anywhere. He used to come up here for lunch and for quiet, though Shinra would often find him anyway. He looks down at himself and is surprised to find he's transparent. He can see the tiles below as if he's not really here at all.

Off to the side, he sees a younger version of himself absorbed in a book. Izaya recognizes the title, _The Picture of Dorian Gray_. He still has the book at home, and he rereads it pretty often. He watches himself for a few moments, and then he hears movement on the stairs, voices carrying. The younger version of himself scoffs before ducking behind the wall, out of sight. The door opens to reveal Shizuo storming out onto the roof, Shinra chasing after him.

“Fucking _drop it_ , Shinra!” Shizuo yells, his hands in fists. He whirls on the younger Shinra, who throws his hands up in surrender. “I'm not being nice to that goddamn bloodsucker! I'm tired of you talking to me about him; it just pisses me off!”

“I'm sorry! It's just that you're both my friends, and...” Shinra rubs at the back of his neck. “It'd be so much easier if we could all hang out together. I really think you two could be great friends.”

“What did I just say?!” Shizuo takes a threatening step forward, and Shinra howls before jumping back. “He's been sending thugs after me! I know it's him, and I'm gonna wring his scrawny neck until his head pops off!”

“Shizuo-kun, please, he's just trying to get a rise out of you! He's still really mad about you hating him on first sight, and—“

“If you say another word, _one more_ word to me about making nice with that bastard, I'm gonna seriously hurt you. I _hate_ him, and I want him dead. If I never saw him again, it'd be too fucking soon.”

Izaya watches them, and then he turns to his younger self, winces at the expression he sees. He remembers this day, remembers overhearing this conversation.

“I just wish you didn't feel that way,” Shinra says, and then he sighs. “C'mon, don't threaten me! I'm your friend, you know?”

“You're _his_ friend, too,” Shizuo spits, and he crosses his arms. “I mean it, Shinra, I'm gonna kill him one day. You might as well get it through your head. I can't be chummy with a guy like that.”

“It boggles the mind that you're even chummy with _me_ ,” Shinra says, grinning wryly, and Shizuo shrugs.

“Yeah, don't remind me. You're just one of the only people who isn't scared of me, that's all it is.”

“Liar,” Izaya says, knowing full well no one can hear him. “I wasn't scared of you either, and you _hated_ me for it.”

Shinra and Shizuo leave soon after, and Izaya is left alone with the younger version of himself, who is fingering the corners of his book forlornly. Izaya wishes he could say something to himself, but at the same time, he has no idea what he'd even say. He doesn't have any wisdom to offer, and as for comfort, _every_ version of himself would reject it.

“This is when I decided I'd make him hate me more than anyone else,” he says aloud, watching as the young Izaya goes back to reading, huddled in a corner, tucked into himself. “I thought if it was the only way to get him to look at me, I'd be okay with it.”

“Does it work out?” the younger Izaya asks, suddenly looking right at him, maybe even _through_ him. “Are you happy?”

“Does it matter? He's _looking.”_

There's a tug on his arm, and Izaya jerks awake, finds he's flat on the floor beside his coffee table. Shinra is hovering over him.

“Izaya-kun? Hey, it's okay.” Shinra puts a calming hand on Izaya's cheek, and Izaya leans into it, needs to know Shinra is really here. “Do you know where you are?”

“I'm home. Shizu-chan was here...” Izaya looks around wildly until his eyes settle on Shizuo, who is standing beside Celty, a worried look on his face. “Weren't we just at school?”

“School?” Shinra asks. “What did you see?”

“My sisters were here...” Izaya groans and tries to sit up. A fresh wave of nausea hits him, and he curls into himself instead. “You think I'm crazy.”

“I don't. I think you're going through too much for anyone to go through alone.” Shinra leans down, closer to Izaya's ear. “I'm here,” Shinra says softly, and Izaya withholds a laugh. If this isn't real, this is the cruelest trick his mind has played on him so far.

“You're heavy,” Izaya mumbles, and Shinra pulls back, offers a hand to help Izaya up.

“What the hell is this? He's seeing ghosts and passing out? And we're gonna act like it's okay?” Shizuo asks, and Shinra sighs as he supports Izaya onto the couch.

“It could be a lot of things. All of this could still be the mind processing grief, it could be sleep-deprivation—“

“I slept fine last night,” Izaya interjects, and Shinra looks between him and Shizuo, his eyebrows raised.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Shizuo says, narrowing his eyes at Shinra. “You asked me to look after him, and he was freaking out. What was I supposed to do, leave him here alone?”

“It's just above and beyond what I asked you to do, that's all,” Shinra says, and then he turns to Izaya. “How are you feeling right now?”

“Hungry,” Izaya says earnestly. “Aren't we having food delivered soon, Shizu-chan?”

“It's here already. You just had to go and pass out.” Shizuo walks towards the couch, a paper bag in his hand, and he sets it on the coffee table in front of Izaya.

“I'm so happy the two of you are finally getting along,” Shinra says happily. He wilts when Shizuo and Izaya both give him a look.

“Can you _leave?_ I was fine till you showed up,” Izaya says.

“So you were fine alone with Shizuo-kun?” Shinra asks.

“ _Yes,”_ Izaya snaps as he unwraps his hamburger, which is _ridiculously_ big. “Look at this thing. How the hell do I eat this, Shizu-chan?”

“You eat it, dumbass. Can you even eat real food, or do you exclusively live off the blood of others?” Shizuo asks as he flops onto the couch beside Izaya. He reaches for the bag, and he hums in thanks when Izaya passes it to him.

“Well, Celty, I think we can go! They seem fine!” Shinra says, and he balks when Celty's PDA shoves into his face. “Really, they're doing great! You heard Izaya-kun, he wants us to go!”

“Celty can stay. You're the one on my nerves,” Izaya mumbles through a mouthful of food. Shizuo's lips twitch upwards.

“Celty and I are a package deal!” Shinra wails, and he looks closely at Shizuo. “Call if anything happens, okay?”

“ _Shinra really should monitor you. You passed out so suddenly.”_ Celty's PDA floods Izaya's vision, and he squints at the bright screen, his eyes struggling to adjust.

“I'm fine. You can _all_ go,” Izaya says.

“No. You can relent to letting Shizuo-kun stay, or you can come stay with me. You can't be alone, I'm sorry.” Shinra steps forward and puts a hand on Izaya's shoulder, his fingers squeezing.

“As if any of you care what happens to me.” Izaya tries to shrug Shinra's hand off him, but Shinra holds on tight.

“I do care, and so does Celty.” Shinra frowns and shakes Izaya a bit. “I really think you should come stay with us for a while.”

“He's fine, I'm watching him,” Shizuo says. Izaya grimaces at him when he sees Shizuo is already almost done with his own burger, his cheeks full of food like some sort of monstrous rodent. He glares over at Izaya. “What?”

“Watching you disgusts me,” Izaya says, leaning forward to put his burger on the coffee table.

“You _watching_ me disgusts me!”Shizuo shoots back.

“How am I supposed to look at anything else when you're _smacking_ and—“

“Okay!” Shinra says, his hands going up. “Don't kill each other. I don't have other friends to replace you.” He nods at Shizuo, wordlessly conveying his thanks, and then he's tugging Celty towards the door. Izaya tongues at his cheek, and when he hears the door closed, he turns to Shizuo.

“You can leave now, monster. I don't want you here.”

“Tough shit,” Shizuo replies, wadding up the paper his burger was wrapped in. “Shinra's right, you shouldn't be alone.”

“I don't _want_ you here!” Izaya shouts, and Shizuo stiffens. Izaya rarely raises his voice, hates to lose his cool, but the longer Shizuo stays and acts like Izaya is anything other than an enemy, the more Izaya feels himself slipping. “Get out.”

“So you're just gonna sit here feeling sorry for yourself?” Shizuo asks gruffly, his eyes looking from Izaya to the bottle of whiskey still on the table. “Flea—“

“Out, I said! Out, get the fuck _out_ of my apartment!” Izaya stands, wobbles on his feet, and reaches into his pocket, withdrawing his wallet and a few bills. He throws them at Shizuo. “For your junkfood. Leave before I call security.” He makes his way back upstairs and flops into his bed, too hot with anger to even care his duvet is still on the couch. He doesn't relax until he hears the door close below him, and he's honestly surprised when Shizuo doesn't slam it.

***

It only takes a day for Shizuo to come back.

Izaya is curled on the couch, his eyes on the TV, though he doesn't know what he's watching. He barely flinches when his door bursts open, and when Shizuo comes to the couch to hover over him, he keeps his eyes trained on the TV screen.

“Simon said to give this to you,” Shizuo says, putting a bag next to Izaya. “He said it's your favorite.”

Izaya doesn't look at him. Shizuo growls and kicks at the couch.

“Oi, did you hear me? Are you deaf now, flea?”

“I don't want you here,” Izaya says irritably. He sniffs and pulls his blanket up higher, hiding more of his face.

“Tough shit, I don't care what you want.” Shizuo crosses his arms and stands there. “You think you deserve peace and quiet when you never give me the same courtesy? Fuck you.”

“Then do what you want, just shut _up.”_

Shizuo scrutinzies him, taps his foot on the floor. “What's wrong with you? You look worse than usual.”

“The urns are here,” Izaya says, motioning to the counter. He put them right next to the broken glass he's yet to clean. “Told you they'd liven things up.”

Shizuo hesitates a moment before he sits next to Izaya, closer than he did the day before. Izaya tosses the remote at Shizuo, who catches it and flips through the channels before settling on some cheesy movie. Neither of them speaks for a long time, and it's Izaya who eventually breaks the silence.

“I didn't look in their coffins.”

“Huh?” Shizuo glances at him.

“I didn't want to see their bodies. I didn't want to remember them that way.” Izaya rolls to his back, and he watches Shizuo's face. “I'm actually a coward, you know?”

“I wouldn't have wanted to look either,” Shizuo says.

“Mm. I wish I had've.”

Shizuo keeps staring at him, a frown on his face, and Izaya laughs softly, shaking his head.

“I'm just not really convinced they're actually dead.”

“Flea.” Shizuo sighs and runs a hand through his messy hair. “They are. They're...gone. Don't do this to yourself.”

“Then tell me why those urns are empty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ٩( ᐛ )و *laughs maniacally*
> 
> [a void for you to yell into](https://sachigram.tumblr.com/)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Looked at you too long at last.  
> Fell upon in the lows of roulette.  
> And those stars, you move on, you move on.  
> That's why you've tried to quit thinking, love." -- ["Vow"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nF3KjIdLqys) by: SALES

“Okay, can you explain this to me one more time?”

Izaya stays where he is, doesn't want to look up at either of the men in his apartment. He can feel them both watching him with judgment disguised poorly as concern, and at this point he's not very interested in what either of them has to say. He knows what he sees, knows his own mind better than anyone else. He won't be swayed into thinking differently.

“I already fucking _explained_ it to you!” Shizuo is angry, which is refreshing. He was acting much too friendly before, much too human. It's funny to Izaya that Shizuo is acting so upset on _his_ behalf.

“Yes, but it was over the phone, and you were acting...frazzled,” Shinra answers in a placating tone. “Just once more, please.”

“It's what I said! Flea's fucking losing it _way_ worse than you let on before. He's acting weird as fu—“

“The urns?” Shinra interjects. Izaya can hear Shinra moving towards the counter, the sounds of glass sliding, and then there's a pause.

“He says they're empty,” Shizuo says lowly, but it's almost as if he's incapable of whispering.

“They _are_ empty,” Izaya says, sitting up at last to face them both. The blanket falls down into his lap, and he rubs at his eyes, blinking lights out of his vision. He was lying in the dark for so long with the TV as the only light source, and now Shinra has the main lights on.

“Izaya-kun, they're not,” Shinra says, lifting an urn into his arms. He pads towards the couch and tilts it towards Izaya. “Look.”

Inside is the same emptiness Izaya saw before. He thought it was a joke at first, the urns being empty, thought maybe the staff of the funeral home were trying to pull one over on him, but no. Everyone else thus far has found the urns to be full. Izaya scoffs and flops back onto the couch, pulling the blanket over his head.

“I can't look at nothing, Shinra. I don't know what you want me to say.”

“See?” Shizuo asks, and there's the rustling of fabric, the sound of footsteps. “He really thinks it.”

“Well, I didn't think he was faking,” Shinra says. There's some more movement, and then pressure next to Izaya as someone sits beside him. “Izaya-kun, I want you to come stay with me.”

“No. You think I'm crazy, I can tell. Who knows what horrible experiments you'll do as soon as I'm unconscious?” Izaya curls further into himself, wishing the others would just leave. This is awful enough without them both observing Izaya as if he's a rare exhibit at the museum.

“How many times do I have to tell you I don't think you're crazy?” Shinra asks, and he tugs at the blanket until Izaya relents to letting it pull away from his face. Shinra smiles at him sadly. “Will you trust me, please? Let's just talk through this. What could the urns being empty mean, exactly?”

“That they're actually alive, that something worse could be happening to them, that Shiki-san is somehow involved—“ Izaya lists, and Shinra holds a hand up.

“You realize what you're saying. You realize how this sounds. You're saying a powerful executive, a _made man,_ is trying to convince you that the twins are dead. What exactly would his motivations be here?”

“I don't even know how they died!” Izaya shouts. He's gone over these facts, assessed them over and over in his mind, and having Shinra spout them as if Izaya is just being willfully ignorant is asinine. “Every time he starts to explain it to me, he stops short, like he can't piece the story together for himself.”

“Izaya-kun, he _has_ explained it to you. He's explained it to _me_ as well. You're blocking it out because—“ Shinra sighs and reaches for Izaya's shoulder, but Izaya swats his hand away. “You're traumatized,” Shinra continues. “This is a perfectly acceptable response to what you're going through.”

“Bullshit,” Izaya snaps, sitting up once more. He glares at Shinra, wants nothing more than to strangle the man, and he wonders briefly if this is how Shizuo feels all the time. “Tell me, then. Tell me how they died.”

Shinra opens his mouth, and his lips move, but Izaya can't hear anything. He looks from Shinra to Shizuo, trying to decide if they're messing with him, but Shizuo looks uncomfortable, as if he doesn't want to hear this story, and Shinra's expression is morose, like he's giving a patient bad news.

“They aren't dead,” Izaya says, and he draws his knees up, rests his head on them. “If they were dead, I'd know it.”

“I saw the bodies, Izaya-kun,” Shinra says gently.

“You fucking _didn't._ You don't even know how they died!”

“Flea, he just—“ Shizuo tries, and Izaya throws his hands in the air.

“I didn't ask for either of you to be here! I'm not asking you to believe me! What the hell do I care what _either_ of you think when _you,”_ he points to Shinra, “work closely with Shiki-san, and _you,”_ he points to Shizuo, “hate me anyway?” Izaya glowers at them both, and then he flops back down, exhausted suddenly from all these emotions.

“We're trying to help you,” Shinra says, and his voice is calm. Shizuo scoffs in the background. “Neither of us has anything to gain from lying to you.”

“Yes, you do.” Izaya doesn't elaborate, doesn't think he needs to. “Get out.”

“As your friend, I can't do that, and as your medical professional, it would be nothing short of irresponsible of me to leave you on your own when I think you might be a danger to yourself or others,” Shinra says, and Izaya rolls his eyes.

“Yeah? You just said you didn't think I was crazy, and now you're saying I'm dangerous?”

“If you really think _I'd_ be out to get you, then I have to assume something might not be right,” Shinra says coolly, and he narrows his eyes when Izaya glances at him.

“Then _you_ leave. Shizu-chan can stay,” Izaya says.

Shinra has the gall to look hurt. “Izaya-kun...”

“I already know Shizu-chan hates me, so I won't be inclined to listen to him. Get out, Shinra, I mean it. I'm not interested in convincing you or anyone else of the truth.” He folds his arms over his knees and looks over at Shizuo, almost daring him to say something. Shizuo is uncharacteristically silent, though he still looks as annoyed as ever. He shrugs at Shinra, his lips turned down, and Shinra sighs loudly before standing.

“Have it your way, but I'll be back soon,” Shinra says. He passes by Shizuo and motions for Shizuo to follow him, and the two of them move towards the door while murmuring back and forth.

“I'm not crazy,” Izaya says to himself, and he glances at the urn Shinra left on the coffee table. It stares back at him almost vindictively, a worthy foe, every bit as empty inside as Izaya is.

The door opens and closes, and Shizuo returns, his hands in his pockets, his dark eyes focused on Izaya. “I really, _really_ don't know what to say here.”

“I don't expect you to say anything, monster. Actually, I'd rather you not talk at all.”

“Why the hell would you prefer me to Shinra? He's right, you _hate_ me.”

“Most of the people in my small inner circle hate me, Shizu-chan. It's easier to deal with openly hostile people, as there's no trust between us. You can't possibly betray me, as I don't trust you to begin with.” Izaya lies down once more and turns to face the TV. “Can you turn the lights back off? They're hurting my head.”

“Shinra said you should eat. Come on, I brought you fatty tuna.” Shizuo moves to hover over Izaya, and he lifts the bag as if to remind Izaya of its presence.

“I'm not hungry.”

Shizuo growls, and Izaya smiles, wonders how far he can push Shizuo before Shizuo lunges at him with intent to kill.

“Fucking _eat_ it, or I'll shove it down your throat,” Shizuo snaps, throwing the bag at Izaya. “Dying of starvation is too nice a death for you.”

“That's absolutely terrible, Shizu-chan! It's a slow, painful death, you know?” Izaya considers throwing the bag to the floor, but the ootoro smells delicious. His stomach rumbles.

“See? You're hungry. Just eat it.” Shizuo sits down, his elbows on his knees as he leans toward Izaya. His fingers twitch.

“Did you poison it?” Izaya asks.

“I didn't even take it out of the bag!”

“Mm, you could've put poison all over the lid though... It could seep into my skin and leave me paralyzed or worse. I doubt you could come up with such a scheme, but that little friend who works with you would definitely know where to get poison. She might even be on her way here to help you dispose of my body as we speak.” Izaya knows he's reaching here, but it's just so easy to make Shizuo angry. It's Izaya's favorite toy to play with.

“Do you mean Vorona? Don't fucking talk about her to me,” Shizuo says, and he grits his teeth. “She doesn't even know I'm here. No one does except Shinra.”

“Are you saying I'm your _dirty_ secret, Shizu-chan?” Izaya lifts his hand to his mouth, feigns shock. “I see your angle now! I never would've expected this from you, but... You always surprise me, Shizu-chan! Okay, so then the next thing for me to ask is _this.”_ Izaya sits up, purses his lips, bats his eyelashes at Shizuo. “I don't have any money for this sushi. Is there any _other_ way I can pay for it?”

Shizuo looks like he swallowed something sour. He snarls at Izaya before he stands up and looms over him. “You have until the count of three to eat a piece of sushi, and if you don't do it, I'm gonna make it where the only way you can eat _anything_ is through a straw.”

“But then how will I suck your dick, Shizu-chan?” Izaya lilts, and he barely manages to move before Shizuo roars in what can only be pure frustration and lifts Izaya's entire couch to throw it across the room. It crashes into the bookshelf, knocking all the books into the floor and splintering the wood. “Ah. I guess this means you want to go to the bedroom, then?”

“Would you fucking _quit it?!”_ Shizuo yells, and he stomps towards Izaya, lifts him by the front of his shirt. “What's with you? Why are you saying all this gross shit? Is this some new plan of yours to piss me off more than you usually do?”

“Well, being openly hostile to you doesn't seem to be working as well as normal.” Izaya shrugs as best as he can with Shizuo shaking him around. “I thought I'd see how you responded to a little flirtation.”

“How about you shut the fuck up and eat your sushi off the floor like the rat you are?” Shizuo asks, and then he lets Izaya drop.

“I think you _like_ the flirtation! It really seems to be getting a rise out of you. That's good, Shizu-chan, you were being boring before.” Izaya turns away from him and goes to the kitchen where he fetches a bottle of wine. He's in the middle of opening it when Shizuo follows after him.

“Goddammit, Izaya, I'm just gonna call Shinra and ask him to come back. I can't be nice to you, okay? It's too fucking weird for both of us, and you're only gonna hurt yourself more to spite me.”

“The real question here is why do you care?” Izaya asks, and he pours himself a glass of wine. “Call Shinra, leave, it doesn't matter to me. I've got no problems being on my own.”

“Oh, yeah?” Shizuo asks, moving forward. He has Izaya cornered, Izaya's back pressed to the counter. “You wanna know why I care? Because you're a fucking _wreck._ I said I didn't pity you, and I meant it. Anything that happens to you is still less than a leech like you deserves, but letting you lose your mind first is an act of mercy I'm not capable of. I'm gonna kick the shit out of you one day, but I wanna make sure you _feel_ every bit of it, and I wanna make sure you know why it's happening.”

Izaya sips his wine before he sets the glass on the counter. Keeping his eyes on Shizuo's face, he hops up to sit beside the wine, spreads his legs to make room for Shizuo, who growls when he realizes the suggestive position they're in.

“There's nothing wrong with me, Shizu-chan. You want me lucid so you can kick my ass? Fine, I'm perfectly aware of everything _now._ Get it over with and then get out. And put my couch back where it was. I'd tell you to organize my books, but I think even holding a book in your hands might send you into a meltdown.” Izaya smiles sweetly, and then he picks his glass back up.

Shizuo slaps the glass into the floor.

“Can you _stop_ destroying my things?” Izaya asks with a pout, and Shizuo leans closer, his arms on either side of Izaya's thighs.

“Can _you_ stop being a pain in the ass?” Shizuo asks.

Izaya lifts his finger to Shizuo's nose, taps it playfully. “Boop.”

Shizuo shouts angrily and shoves away from Izaya. He goes to the window and opens it, fishes in his pocket until he's pulling out his cigarettes and a lighter. Izaya watches him with a frown, and then he carefully gets off the counter, mindful of where the broken glass is. He carries the entire bottle of wine with him to his desk.

“I don't remember telling you it's okay to smoke in here,” Izaya says.

“If you want me to stop destroying your shit, you'll allow it.” Shizuo blows smoke out the window before he scowls at Izaya. “You piss me off.”

“Yes, I know. Those were the first words you ever said to me, you know? I'm well-aware.” Izaya logs into the Dollars chatroom as Chrome and reads over the conversation thus far. He blinks as a private message opens.

_Kuru: Is this really what you're doing with your free time? You think everyone is pulling an elaborate joke on you, and you're getting drunk off wine and doing nothing about it?_

_Chrome: I know this isn't real._

_Kuru: Real enough. Real to you._

_Kuru: Why do you think the urns are empty?_

_Chrome: Where is Mairu?_

_Kuru: She's here too. She doesn't talk much in the chats. She's on a time-out for being vulgar._

_Chrome: Where are you?_

_Kuru: The real question is where are YOU?_

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, and his voice trembles.

The anger drains away from Shizuo's face. “What is it?” he asks.

“Can you tell me what the screen looks like to you?” Izaya scoots his chair over to make room for Shizuo, who flicks his cigarette out the window before moving to Izaya's side.

“Just looks like the same chat Celty is always on,” Shizuo says.

“You don't see the private window? You don't...” Izaya grips the desk to stop his hands from shaking. “Why is it just me?”

“Flea.” Shizuo nudges Izaya with his arm, and Izaya glares daggers at him for it. “Look, I'm not a doctor or anything, but maybe the alcohol isn't helping?”

“Fuck you,” Izaya mutters, and he takes a pointed sip from the bottle.

“Like I said,” Shizuo says, moving away from the desk. “You're a wreck.”

“I don't need your help.” Izaya uses his feet to push his chair, and he wheels after Shizuo. “You keep saying I hate you, but you leave out the part where you hate me right back. You leave out the part where you hated me on _sight.”_

“What's that gotta do with anything? We were teenagers.”

“It fucking matters!” Izaya snaps, and he stops the chair short of crashing into Shizuo when Shizuo freezes in place and whirls to face him. “It matters,” Izaya repeats.

“Okay. Okay, fine, then I'm sorry for that.” Shizuo rubs the back of his neck, and he looks uncomfortable. “That was a rough time for me.”

“That's it?” Izaya asks in disbelief. “You're apologizing, just like that? Your excuse is that high school was a _rough time_ for you?”

“Well, it was!” Shizuo says. “People kept picking fights with me and Shinra wouldn't leave me the fuck alone about meeting you, and then—“ Shizuo stops abruptly, a faint color rising in his cheeks. “And then you came at the worst possible time.”

“Right. I should've booked an appointment before meeting you.” Izaya scoffs and scoots the chair back towards the desk. He grabs the wine again. “You're the one who ruined it. You're the one who started this.”

“I just said sorry! Fuck, Izaya, what else do you want from me?”

“I want you to _leave.”_

“No. You don't need to be alone,” Shizuo says, and he crosses his arms, a stubborn set to his jaw.

Izaya laughs. “What kind of idiot _are_ you? I'm always alone, Shizu-chan. Believe me, I've gotten pretty used to it.”

“Me too. Doesn't mean it's not lonely.” Shizuo watches Izaya take another drink, and then he holds his hand out. He rolls his eyes when Izaya gives him a dubious look. “I'm not gonna pour it out. I want a sip.”

“All I do is share my expensive drinks with you,” Izaya laments, but he passes the bottle. He's aware Shizuo doesn't seem like a wine drinker, and his assumptions are confirmed when Shizuo makes a face. “You just don't want me to drink it all.”

“You're an annoying drunk.”

“I thought I was a sad drunk?”

“Crying is annoying.”

Izaya snorts before he slides the chair to the cracked bookshelf. He finds the takeout bag close to the couch, and he opens it, pleased to find the little plastic container isn't crushed. He pops it open and eats a piece of ootoro, a smile appearing at the taste. It's been so long since he's had it.

“Good flea,” Shizuo says, and he wheels Izaya out of the way before he cracks his knuckles and lifts the couch. He carries it back to its place in front of the TV and drops it.

“You know, if you get fired from your current job, you could be a professional mover,” Izaya says.

“You try to get me fired again, and I'm gonna snap your neck,” Shizuo replies.

“We'll have to work on your customer service, but otherwise I think you'd be good at it.” Izaya eats more sushi and feels almost happy for the first time in a long while. He doesn't say so, of course, but Shizuo seems to be aware. It's easier to ignore the elephant in the room with someone else here to provide a distraction.

“Its weird. You were right before when you said I don't know anything about you. I guess I made it a point not to know things. But now I know your favorite food,” Shizuo says as he crosses the room to pick up the discarded couch cushions. He carries them back to the couch and throws them on.

“All you have to do is pay attention. I know a lot of things about you,” Izaya says, and he smirks when Shizuo glowers at him.

“See, that's creepy. You're a creepy bastard.”

“Ask me something about you! Go ahead!” Izaya wheels back to the desk where Shizuo sat the bottle of wine down. He takes a long sip.

“No thanks. I'd rather not know how long you've been watching me.”

“Why not? It's not the least bit flattering to you?” Izaya asks.

“Why would it be?”

“I'd be flattered if someone cared about me so much,” Izaya says, and he immediately regrets saying it. His face heats up, and he turns his back to Shizuo, absolutely mortified. “I'm usually overlooked, is all I mean.”

“Overlooked? _You?”_ Shizuo asks, and he barks a laugh. “Sorry, flea, but you really suck at blending in.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I'd know you anywhere.”

Izaya spins his chair around, laughing to himself. Shizuo is probably the only one in the world who always notices him, never looks past him. Izaya has wanted it more than anything else, no matter what he had to do to get it. Shizuo needs to look at him, even if it's with hatred, even if it's out of the desire to kill. Shizuo needs to _look._

“Do you think things would be a lot different if we were friends?” Shizuo asks suddenly. Izaya stops spinning, feels a little sick to his stomach.

“Oh, come on, Shizu-chan. You wouldn't stoop to the level of being friends with me.”

“I mean it.”

“Don't you know it's rude to kick someone while they're down? How monstrous of you.”

“ _Flea._ I _mean_ it.” Shizuo moves closer to Izaya. “Maybe if I hadn't been fighting that day, maybe if I was in an okay mood when Shinra introduced us...”

“Stop it.” Izaya has had the same thought himself plenty of times: _What if?_ “Even if you liked me at first, you still wouldn't like what I do, wouldn't like who I am as a person.”

“Can't you just stop being a prick?” Shizuo asks.

“Can't _you_ just stop losing your temper all the time?”

“It's not the same thing!”

“There's that hypocrisy again! Tell me, how many excuses do you give about your temper? Someone _always_ pisses you off, even when they aren't doing anything to you. There's always a reason for your fights, right? It's not just the fact you have an extremely short fuse to go along with your incredible strength?” Izaya smiles, sips more wine before passing the bottle to Shizuo, who snatches it.

“What's your fucking point?”

“I don't make excuses, Shizu-chan. You ask me why I do the things I do, it's because I enjoy them. It's as simple as that.” Izaya spins around. “Have you considered the reason you fight all the time is because you actually _like_ it?”

“No, because that's not true. I hate fighting,” Shizuo says.

“Then tell me this.” Izaya stops spinning and scoots closer to Shizuo. “Have you considered you chase me around so much because you might actually like _me?”_

“God, are we back to the flirting now? You're running out of tricks, flea.”

“Mm. Maybe you should think about it. All those excuses of yours, you must really not know much about yourself. Denial is enough to give anyone an anger problem.”

“You wanna know what I think?” Shizuo barks, stomping forward and putting his foot out to stop the chair from moving. “I think you're the saddest, loneliest, most _twisted_ piece of trash who ever lived. I think you tell yourself all this shit and make excuses to _yourself._ It doesn't matter if you own up to them out loud, does it? Not if you still try to convince yourself you're happy being alone when really you _hate_ yourself. Don't you?”

“You're not saying anything profound, Shizu-chan. I already told you I was a coward,” Izaya says, not bothering to address the rest of it.

“Yeah, well now you're a hypocrite, too.”

They glare at each other, and then Izaya turns away, laughing at the absurdity of all this.

“Maybe we're both cowardly hypocrites. Maybe that's why we're in each other's lives. Maybe you hate me so much because I remind you of yourself.”

Shizuo removes his foot from the path of the chair, lets Izaya roll away. His eyes narrow. “So is that the reason you hate me, then? Or do you hate me because you actually like me?”

Izaya stops rolling, huffs and eats another piece of sushi. “I don't like you.”

“Right.” Shizuo drinks some wine, scrutinizes Izaya's expression. “It's okay if you do.”

“Oh, _is_ it?” Izaya asks, eating the last of his sushi and throwing the container at Shizuo's head. “Well, thank you, Shizu-chan, that really cleared things up for me. I'm a new man, and I'll never have to bother you again!”

“God. _Fuck._ It's impossible to be civil with you, you know that? You make it impossible.”

“So call Shinra, call him and leave. I'm not asking you to stay.”

“No. I'm not gonna let you be by yourself.”

“ _Why?_ Why not, what business is it of yours—“ Izaya starts, standing from his chair. He falters when Shizuo kicks the desk, splitting it into pieces so the monitor crashes into the floor.

“Shut _up!”_ Shizuo shouts, breathing heavily. “I fucking mean it, flea. One more word, and I'll kill you.”

“That desk was top of the line, you know? It probably costs more than you make in a month.” Izaya steps forward and snatches the wine from Shizuo. “I don't care what you do anymore, monster. You want to sit in silence and keep an eye on me, convince yourself you're saving me? Go ahead. It won't change anything, will it?”

“Do you really think the urns are empty?” Shizuo asks, still glowering, and Izaya scowls.

“Yes.”

“Then I'm staying.” Shizuo goes to the couch, flops down onto it. Izaya grins, takes a gulp of wine, and sits close to Shizuo, probably too close. “Flea,” Shizuo says warningly.

“I'm cold,” Izaya says. He pouts up at Shizuo. “You're here to help me, right?”

“If you try anything weird...” Shizuo trails off.

“Define 'weird',” Izaya says.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” Shizuo hisses through clenched teeth.

Izaya's grin stretches into a leer, and he fits himself against Shizuo's side, surprised to feel just how _warm_ Shizuo is. He wraps his arms around Shizuo's arm and nuzzles his face into Shizuo's sleeve.

“Get _off_ me!” Shizuo hisses, and Izaya shakes his head.

“Nope. You're like a monster space heater. I'm tipsy and I'm cold.”

Shizuo grumbles and leans back into the cushions. He changes the channel to some MMA thing, and Izaya allows himself the liberty of inhaling Shizuo's scent. It's odd, it's exactly how he imagined it: the musk of sweat, cheap cologne, cigarette smoke. Izaya loves it, hates that he loves it. He loves it so fucking much.

“Shizu-chan could wipe the floor with all those guys,” Izaya says, voice muffled in Shizuo's arm.

“Nah, they have actual skill. I just get mad,” Shizuo replies. “Your TV is amazing, by the way. I feel like I'm really there.”

“Mm.” Izaya passes Shizuo the bottle of wine, watches Shizuo's throat bob when he drinks. Shizuo tilts towards Izaya's body very slightly, probably for comfort reasons. Izaya smiles, closes his eyes, wants to memorize this exact moment down to the tiniest detail because it's already so much more than he ever thought he'd get.

“Just tell him you love him,” Mairu's voice says, and Izaya jumps backwards, away from Shizuo, who looks at him with alarm.

“Flea?”

“I heard Mairu,” Izaya says, looking around. He doesn't see her, but the urn is still on the coffee table.

“What'd she say?” Shizuo asks.

“You didn't hear her?” Izaya asks, though he knows the answer already. He laughs, falls to his side, and curls his knees to his chest. “Shizu-chan, do you think I'm losing my mind?”

“I don't know,” Shizuo says honestly. “I have no idea what you're going through. It could all be normal. And even if it's not, I think you're allowed to be a little crazy right now.”

“Why are you being so nice to me? Is it just because Shinra asked you to?”

“I don't know,” Shizuo says again, and he doesn't say anything else.

“I'm going to go to bed,” Izaya says, and he stands, lingering over Shizuo. “Stay the night, I don't care. I have a guest bed, or you can crash here in front of your beloved TV.” He looks at the urn in front of him, and then at the one on the counter. “I can't be around these things anymore.”

He goes upstairs and quickly brushes his teeth, doesn't bother with washing his face. He's so tired, so tired of everything, and somehow, knowing Shizuo is below him calms him enough to fall asleep.

He wakes in his parent's house.

He's on the couch, rubbing at his eyes as the twins argue loudly over a doll, Mairu pulling an arm, and Kururi pulling a leg. He groans and sits up.

“Can't you two just share your toys?” he asks, and they both glare at him.

“Easy for you to say! You never had to share!” Mairu shouts.

“And look at me now, sharing everything,” Izaya replies. He reaches out, takes the doll from them, and moves her around through the air. “She wants you to share her, and...what's that?” He places the doll next to his ear. “Ah. She also wants you to let me sleep.”

“She does _not._ It's daytime. Why are you so tired anyway?” Mairu asks, swiping for the doll. Izaya pulls the doll out of reach.

“I study at night. I also have to work.”

“Work...” Kururi repeats, tilting her head.

“I have my own private assignments, you know?” Izaya looks between them as he remembers everything, and the dream seems to shift. “Are you really dead?” he asks suddenly, and they look at each other before looking back to him.

“What do you think?” Mairu asks.

“I think you aren't. I don't think it's denial on my part. I really think if you were gone, I'd know it.”

“So then...what do you think is going on?” Kururi asks softly.

“I don't know. It...” Izaya inhales, smells a floral scent, but he doesn't know where it's coming from. “I don't know what's happening.”

“You do,” Kururi says, and then she smiles. “You've known for a while.”

“It's okay, Iza-nii,” Mairu says, and she reaches out to squeeze Izaya's hand in hers. “We're here!”

Izaya wakes up thrashing. It takes him a few moments to realize he isn't alone. Shizuo is hovering over him, holding his arms in place.

“Calm _down_ , dammit! You woke me up _again,”_ Shizuo says, and his grip relaxes when Izaya stops fighting him.

“You're still here...” Izaya says dazedly, his eyes full of tears. He's grateful for the darkness of his room, doesn't want Shizuo to see his face.

“Well, yeah, you...” Shizuo stops talking when Izaya's hands settle on either side of his face.

“Shizu-chan...” Izaya murmurs, his hands pulling. Shizuo follows his lead, inhales sharply when his forehead rests against Izaya's.

“Flea?” Shizuo asks.

“I had a dream. Only they aren't dreams. Or they aren't _always_ dreams. I just...” Izaya caresses Shizuo's face, doesn't care anymore how this looks. “Can you stay up here?”

“You sure?” Shizuo asks, though he makes no motion to leave.

“I need to know you're real.”

“What are you talking about?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya shakes his head.

“I can't explain it all. You'll really think I'm insane. You can go downstairs if you really want to, I just...”

“No, I'll stay.” Shizuo rolls off Izaya, settles next to him, and Izaya doesn't hesitate at all before he's scooting closer, wrapping his arms around Shizuo and pressing his face into Shizuo's chest. “You're really freaked out, huh?”

Izaya doesn't reply. He takes greedy breaths, tries to keep Shizuo's scent in his nose for as long as he can. He feels Shizuo's arms settle around him, but he doesn't dare read too much into it. Shizuo has no choice here, after all. He's trying to make sure Izaya is okay, is doing a favor for Shinra. It's not anything more than that.

“Fuck, Izaya, you're shaking.” Shizuo hugs Izaya tighter, his face pressing into Izaya's hair. “Talk to me. What is it?”

“They're alive,” Izaya says weakly. “I know it. I know they are.”

“They _aren't,_ flea. It's like Shinra said, you're protecting yourself from the truth.”

“I am, but I don't think the truth is that they're gone.”

“So then what is it? What's the truth?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya clings tighter to him. They lie together in silence, and Izaya is so warm, so content in Shizuo's arms that he's close to sleep once more when he hears footsteps below. He jolts, and Shizuo grunts irritably.

“I heard something,” Izaya says, trying to lift to his elbow. Shizuo pulls him back down.

“You didn't. C'mon, Izaya, just try to sleep. You'll feel better if you do.”

Izaya hesitates before he curls back in to Shizuo. All these bizarre instances, these things he can't explain, he's almost willing to overlook all of them for this: the feeling of being held, the feeling of being worried over. Izaya has never known this kind of comfort in his entire life, and he thinks he's beginning to understand why he's feeling it now.

“Christ,” Izaya mutters. If he was at rock bottom before, he's lower now, somewhere in the layers of Hell. It's cruel that it's like this, but Izaya can't say he doesn't deserve it. He reaches up with trembling hands and undoes the buttons of Shizuo's shirt. Shizuo only watches him, a calm expression on his face.

“I don't think you're a coward, Izaya,” Shizuo says, and Izaya raises an eyebrow in response, though he's not sure Shizuo can see it in the darkness. Shizuo continues anyway. “Before, you said you were, but I don't see how. You're not scared of anything. You're not even scared of _me_ , and you really should be. Even I'm terrified of me.”

“There's more than one definition of a coward, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, and then he presses his face into the warmth of Shizuo's bare chest. He slides his hands up and under the back of Shizuo's shirt, sighs softly and blinks back tears.

“Oh, yeah? Well, some of us don't have the time to dig up all these other definitions for simple words. Must be nice to be self-employed,” Shizuo huffs, but he keeps holding Izaya, and Izaya wonders if Shizuo might be the only thing holding him together.

“It is, it's nice. It's lonely. I'm...” Izaya's voice trembles. He swallows, forces his voice into neutrality. “If being brave means you're afraid to do something, but you do it anyway, then a true coward is someone who never tries in the first place to face their fears. Someone complacent.”

“But you put yourself in crazy situations all the time. You don't back down even when I'm trying to kill you,” Shizuo argues.

“I have a list of fears, actually. Whatever you think of me, I'm a person.” Izaya listens to Shizuo's heart beating faster. “I accept everything about everyone, I tell myself nothing they do can hurt me, not as long as I'm willing to accept any and every outcome. I love all of humanity because I see the worst of humanity every day and I can still love them, but no one sees _me._ No one does, and no one _can_ , because I won't let them. You were right before when you said I'm a hypocrite, too. I am, and I know it. I want to see everyone, but I don't want anyone to see me.”

“So you hide,” Shizuo says.

“The only one who knows me is me, and _I_ don't even like me. How am I supposed to just let people see me as I am? It's amazing, isn't it, that people can be so _vulnerable_ with others! To let your guard down and seek comfort and love from your fellow man— It boggles the mind! Humans are social creatures; we subconsciously drift together and long for another's touch, but at the same time, we fear each other, fear existence, do _terrible things_ to avoid being _known!_ Isn't that amazing?! We're a paradox in ourselves!”

“I'm pretty sure you're doing the opposite of calming down,” Shizuo says, and he punctuates it with a yawn. “You're getting all manic and flea-like. Hiding from other people doesn't make you a coward, and if it does in some way, then I'm a coward, too. Whether it's to protect yourself or others, sometimes it's better to be on your own if the alternative is everyone getting hurt.”

“You're not on your own, you barbarian. You fucking _should_ be, but you're not. You don't know the meaning of true loneliness.” Izaya seethes, digs his nails into Shizuo's back, but of course Shizuo probably doesn't feel it.

“And now you're getting all pissy. See, this is why it's hard to talk to you. You go on and on about random bullshit, and then you work yourself up, and then I just really wanna punch you. It's a cycle.” Shizuo nuzzles his face into Izaya's hair, and it has the tightness leaving Izaya's shoulders before he knows it. “If you wanna be comforted, then I'm right here. All the other shit you were saying doesn't matter, does it? You're a person, you want comfort. What's wrong with giving into nature every now and then?”

“That's so easy for you to say. You're a creature of pure instinct. And I really want you to know the emphasis I'm putting on the word _creature.”_

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. You know, the more you babble about things, the easier it is to see through you. I can actually tell you're putting all these walls up, and it's kind of stupid. It's actually _really_ stupid for some brainiac like you. Aren't you supposed to know better?” Shizuo asks.

“It's paradoxical, as I said,” Izaya replies, and Shizuo hums.

“It must really suck to have so many thoughts all the time. No wonder you're crazy.”

Izaya lifts his leg and kicks Shizuo, and Shizuo rolls over him, partly on _top_ of him, and he presses his face into Izaya's neck.

“Go to sleep, flea,” Shizuo says.

“That's your expert advice?”

“It sure as hell can't hurt anything, can it?”

Izaya purses his lips, chooses not to answer that. He feels Shizuo falling asleep on top of him. It happens gradually, Shizuo's body sinking further, the tension leaving his muscles. He makes a soft noise, and then his breathing evens out, his exhales tickling Izaya's skin. Izaya waits until he knows for a fact Shizuo is out of it, and then he lifts his hands, threads them through Shizuo's hair.

“I don't need this,” Izaya murmurs. “I'm doing this because I want to, not because I need it.” Shizuo's breathing is the only answer he receives, but somehow it's an answer all the same.

Izaya stays where he is even after day starts to break. It's still dark out, raining again, and he has no idea what time it was when Shizuo came to bed with him, but it must have been close to morning already, because Izaya doesn't feel like much time has passed. He doesn't sleep, doesn't dare to. He refuses to miss a single moment of this, Shizuo clinging to him, completely relaxed, drooling the slightest bit into Izaya's neck. Izaya keeps his hands in Shizuo's hair, keeps them moving, because when he tries to stop, Shizuo grunts in irritation. Izaya stops a few times anyway, just to feel Shizuo's angry little breaths against his skin.

More time passes, it must, because soon enough Shizuo is moving around more. Izaya thinks Shizuo is awake already and choosing not to get up, though whether it's from wanting to stay the way they are or not wanting to acknowledge it, Izaya can't say.

“Did you sleep?” Shizuo asks after a while. His voice is deeper than normal, gravelly from the remnants of sleep. He still doesn't move.

“Nope. I was never planning on sleeping in the first place. I'm tired of the dreams, you know?”

“Hmm.” Shizuo lifts his head slightly, rests his lips against Izaya's pulse point in imitation of a kiss, but there's no pressure. “This is nice.”

“You're spoiled, you know? I spoiled you overnight. You just wouldn't let go of me, you clingy beast.” Izaya closes his eyes when Shizuo's impression of a kiss becomes more accurate. He inhales sharply, his hands clenching in Shizuo's hair when Shizuo suddenly bites down.

“It's raining again,” Shizuo says, and he kisses Izaya's neck again, slightly higher than before. “And it's early, isn't it?”

“Probably. I can't say for sure.” Izaya shivers when Shizuo's tongue meets his skin, bites his lip on a gasp. “Fuck, what are you doing? I didn't say you could drool on me even more than you already have.”

“I think you like it,” Shizuo says smugly. “I think you _really_ like it, flea.”

“You don't know anything about me or what I like,” Izaya argues. He opens his eyes when he feels Shizuo lifting up, feels Shizuo's nose on his cheek. Shizuo pulls back, and their eyes meet.

“Don't gotta know you to know what you like.” Shizuo leans in and stops short of pressing his lips to Izaya's. He grins at Izaya's frustrated little noise. “But I guess since I don't know you at _all_ , I won't force it.”

“Yes, we can't add this to your list of atrocities,” Izaya replies. They watch each other closely, and when it becomes clear Izaya isn't going to budge, Shizuo breathes a laugh before he rolls over and sits up.

“Man, I hate working in the rain.” Shizuo lifts his arms, stretches until his joints pop, and Izaya lifts to his elbow.

“So then call out,” Izaya says. Shizuo turns to look at him from over his shoulder.

“I can't call out. I have a job to do.”

“That woman is there. She's capable.” Izaya tosses the covers off himself and scoots closer to Shizuo. He wraps his arms around Shizuo from behind, rests his head on Shizuo's shoulder. “Stay with me.”

“Flea...” Shizuo leans back against him, his hands settling over Izaya's. “You sure?”

“Just for today.” Izaya presses his face into Shizuo's shoulder. “I feel like it's the end of the world. Maybe it is, for me. Just indulge me this once, and I won't ask you for anything else.”

“That's a lie if I ever heard one,” Shizuo huffs, but he makes no motion to leave Izaya's grasp. “Hey. Goddammit, you're shaking again. What is it?”

“This is Hell. Isn't it?”

“Okay, no more flea shit.” Shizuo turns and cups Izaya's face. His hands are callused, but his touch his gentle, as if he's being as careful with Izaya as he can. “You're spouting nonsense, and all that's gonna do is piss me off. You want comfort, right? You want me here with you?”

“Yes.” Izaya leans in, brushes his nose against Shizuo's. What has he got to lose anymore? This probably isn't even real.

“Then shut the fuck up,” Shizuo says, and then his lips brush against Izaya's. There's a slight pause as they pull away, both of them apprehensive about the other, but then they're kissing forcefully, hard enough that Izaya forgets to breathe at first.

“Shizu-chan...” Izaya gasps, pulling back. Shizuo doesn't allow him to retreat far, just tugs him closer and seals their mouths together once more.

“I said to shut _up,”_ Shizuo murmurs. His hands trail down Izaya's sides, his fingers sliding under Izaya's shirt as they make their way back up Izaya's body. “I've heard enough of your yammering over the years. Does it really make you so happy to deprive yourself and be miserable?”

“Fuck you,” Izaya spits, and he groans when Shizuo answers by licking into his mouth. There's a hint of desperation to their kisses, to their touches. Izaya wonders if Shizuo can also feel how finite this is, but he must.

It's all effortless, much smoother than it has any right to be. They fit together, and there's none of the awkwardness Izaya would usually associate with Shizuo. Shizuo is a fumbling moron in his own right, scared to touch and to be touched, but there's no issue with this, and that's enough to drive home that something isn't right. Still, Izaya is incapable of listening to himself at the moment. Shizuo was correct before: Izaya is _so tired_ of fighting against himself, and just this once, just for a little while, he wants to feel what he's always been so afraid of.

“ _Shizu...!”_ Izaya's mouth drops open when Shizuo slides inside him. Their breaths mingle between them, and Shizuo is watching Izaya through dark eyes, his lips red and wet from kissing Izaya.

“Fuck...” Shizuo winces, his hips snapping forward minutely as he tries to let Izaya adjust around him. “I've thought of this so many times. Thought I was...crazy for it...”

“ _Move,_ you idiot!” Izaya swats at Shizuo's shoulders, angry that Shizuo is so calm during this when _he_ isn't. Shizuo grins at him and thrusts forward, and Izaya's insults die on his tongue.

It's good, it's _perfect_ , it makes no fucking sense. Shizuo knows exactly how to touch Izaya, exactly how to move, and Izaya has watched Shizuo enough over the years to know Shizuo has absolutely _no_ experience with this. Still, Izaya is left panting, biting back screams as Shizuo pounds into him with powerful motions, with a confidence he shouldn't possess. Izaya comes _hard_ , hard enough to where he forgets where he is, and he clings to Shizuo as Shizuo growls in his ear and keeps fucking into him.

“This...isn't... _Fuck, Shizuo—_ How are you...doing this?!” Izaya manages to blurt between his gasps. Shizuo doesn't respond, but he _does_ bury himself as deeply as he can inside Izaya before coming. Izaya shivers, barely recognizes that he's got his arms and legs wrapped tightly around Shizuo's body. He offers a soft moan when Shizuo kisses him again.

“I gotta call Tom-san,” Shizuo says when he pulls back a bit. He growls and looks around. “Fuck, where did I throw my pants?”

“How should _I_ know?” Izaya asks. He's boneless and satisfied, too happy for it to be a good thing. He can't lose himself in this fantasy. He bristles when Shizuo smiles at him. “What?”

“You're so cuddly like this. It's like all the fight's gone out of you.”

“Keep thinking like that and I'll slit your throat.”

Shizuo has to leave the bed to find his pants. They're in the corner, close to the door, and Izaya watches listlessly as Shizuo calls Tom and feigns an illness.

“You don't get sick. You really should use a better excuse,” Izaya calls, and Shizuo flips him off.

“Yeah, no, it's just like...a tickle. A throat tickle. Yeah, it's weird. I feel weird.” Shizuo is pacing now, his eyes trained on Izaya in bed.

“Tell him you killed someone, that's believable,” Izaya says. Shizuo throws his pants at Izaya.

“I will. Yeah, I'll let you know. Sorry Tom-san. I'll see you tomorrow,” Shizuo says into the phone, and then he hangs up, tossing his phone off to the side. He hurries back to the bed and pounces on Izaya, and they continue where they left off long into the afternoon.

Later, when they've exhausted themselves, Izaya is once again carding his fingers through Shizuo's hair. He doesn't think he'll ever forget Shizuo's taste, his scent, the way Shizuo feels inside him. It's too good to be true, Izaya knows that, but he also knows this is probably the most he'll ever get, and like all things in his life, good and bad, he accepts it.

“Fucking flea,” Shizuo mumbles, his voice muffled against Izaya's chest. “How am I supposed to leave the bed when you're being all cuddly?”

“You aren't,” Izaya says simply. He tugs on Shizuo's hair. “Are you hungry?”

“ _Starved,”_ Shizuo answers, and Izaya snorts.

“Mm. I suppose I could order something for you, since you stayed here with me today.”

“Least you could do,” Shizuo replies.

“You'll have to grab one of our phones for me,” Izaya says.

Shizuo groans. “I'm not hungry after all.”

“You _are._ Your stomach is annoying me.”

Shizuo sighs loudly and lifts up, _pouting_ at Izaya, and then he rolls out of the bed. He fumbles around, trying to find his phone in the floor, and then he glares at Izaya.

“Where's _your_ phone, huh? In your pants?”

“Nope. Downstairs. Guess you have to look harder for yours, Shizu-chan!”

“I-za-ya.”

“For fuck's sake. It's right _there.”_ Izaya points to a spot on the floor, and Shizuo looks from it back to Izaya.

“Where?”

“There! Where I'm pointing!”

Shizuo shuffles forward and turns in a circle, looks around thoroughly. “There's nothing here!”

Izaya grins and lifts his own phone up. “I know. I have mine right here; I just wanted to watch you look for yours.”

Shizuo scowls at Izaya, and then he crawls back into bed, fitting himself into Izaya's side.

“Do you care what I order?” Izaya asks.

“None of your super healthy shit. I want something _good.”_

“'Good' doesn't mean covered in grease.”

They wind up ordering Thai food. Izaya orders his spicy, and Shizuo growls before saying he wants the same, refusing to let Izaya beat him in this nonexistent challenge. When the food arrives, Izaya is the one who answers the door, his bathrobe haphazardly tied. The delivery man pointedly looks away, and when Izaya grabs the food and closes the door, Shizuo is immediately behind Izaya, mouthing at his neck and untying his robe.

By the time they eat, the food has gone cold. Shizuo complains about the spice, and Izaya rolls his eyes, informs Shizuo that no one made him order the spiciest items on the menu, though it's almost too hot for him to enjoy either. They're camped out on the floor, their bodies entwined as they share all the food they ordered. Izaya is slurping up noodles when he notices Shizuo is staring at him.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing, just. This. _Us.”_ Shizuo smiles and takes a bite of his own food. “I'm happy.”

“Oh? Shizu-chan is happy in the arms of his greatest enemy?”

“Yeah, I am.” Shizuo leans in and kisses Izaya's bare shoulder. “I'm happy to see you coming back to life.”

“Yes, I'll be terrorizing you within the week, I'm sure.” Izaya swirls his chopsticks around in the noodles, a contemplative look on his face.

“What is it?” Shizuo asks.

“Do you really think we could ever be like this? If things were different, if _we_ were different, could you have really been happy with me?”

“What are you talking about? We're here _now.”_

“This isn't really Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo's brow furrows, and he sets his takeout container down before he gently takes Izaya's from him as well. He pulls Izaya into his lap, wraps his arms around him.

“I want you to be okay, Izaya. I think maybe you should...talk to someone. Someone besides me and Shinra. You know, like a grief counselor. I can't really help you deal with this aside from being here, but...” Shizuo's arms tighten.

“This helps,” Izaya says, tilting against Shizuo. “Certainly makes it harder to focus, but maybe that's your goal.” Izaya laughs breathlessly, his eyes closing as he inhales the scent of Shizuo's skin. “I imagined so many times how we'd be if we came together like this. I always went back and forth with it, thought you'd either be overeager and clumsy or surprisingly good at it because you're an instinctual beast. In the end, I guess I don't know how you'd be, Shizu-chan, because you always surprise me. But like this, it's easier to say I don't think you'd be this gentle. Not with me.”

“Izaya—“

“I think you'd try, but that would just annoy me. I've never liked being treated like I'm delicate, and that's part of what drew me to you in the first place. You looked at me and you weren't fooled by my appearance. You knew immediately I was someone who could keep up with you, and that's why we gravitate together the way we do. Life without Shizu-chan would be so _boring._ I imagine you feel the same way, but you don't allow yourself to think it. You've gotten so used to the idea of having a quiet, peaceful life that you hate me for not allowing you to have one, but you've never considered how bored you'd be if you attained it. You've never blended in. You don't know how it feels to yearn to stand out.”

“ _Izaya.”_

“And that's stupid, isn't it? You and I, we're so different and so similar. As cliché as it is, we really do complete each other, and coming together like this, it would be so _easy_ if we only allowed it to happen. But we won't. We won't because I'm me, and you're you, and if we stop fighting and actually coexist, we won't have anything left but to accept the fact we need each other, and that's terrifying to us both.”

Shizuo is squeezing Izaya now, his eyes wide as he observes Izaya's face.

“You've done everything possible to isolate yourself, and I've done all I could to keep you alone, but here you are, beloved by others. It really is so stupid, Shizu-chan. I wonder if you really did try to save me. I don't put it past you. I think you probably tried to.” Izaya smiles at Shizuo before he kisses Shizuo's worried frown. “It really would be so easy, to stay with you like this.”

“So stay.” Shizuo's hands cup either side of Izaya's face, and he looks so scared, so _human._ “You want to, right? You want to be with me?”

Instead of answering, Izaya kisses him again, sighs when Shizuo deepens it. He allows Shizuo to pull him down, allows Shizuo to taste him, spread him open, fill him until the empty spaces inside Izaya feel fuller than they ever have before. It really is so _real_. It's cruel, so cruel, and Izaya knows he deserves every bit of it.

Shizuo winds up passing out on top of Izaya right in the middle of the floor. The takeout containers are still scattered around them, as are pieces of shrapnel from the various things Shizuo destroyed. The urns look on, looming, daunting, and Izaya holds tightly to Shizuo, a smile on his face.

“Iza-nii.”

Izaya tilts his head, looks to Mairu. She's standing above him, isn't fazed by his nudity or the compromising position he's in.

“I know,” Izaya says. “I always told you both to have a little bit of patience.”

“We're _bored_. And worried, but not just for you! For lots of reasons!”

“Mostly for you,” Kururi says, appearing at Izaya's side. She touches his hand.

“We just don't fancy being alone. Plus, we owe you _so many_ kicks, you know? You can't get off this easy!” Mairu chirps. She touches Izaya's other hand. “Maybe it'd be easier to give up, but you can't! You're a super stubborn jackass, so we know you're not the type.”

“The urns are empty because you're not dead,” Izaya says.

“We have lots of things to tell you. You love gossip, right?!”

“You're really here with me, but you can't hear me, can you?” Izaya asks.

“We think Shizuo-san visits you. We don't know for sure, but we've seen him around,” Mairu continues.

“I'm the one who isn't really here,” Izaya says, and his sisters vanish. Shizuo vanishes. The apartment around him blurs until he finds himself sitting on the rooftop of Raijin once again. His younger self is there, watching him, book still in his hands.

“Welcome back,” he says, closing the book. He stands.

“Is this the part where you tell me all I've done wrong?” Izaya asks, and his younger self grins.

“Why would I do that when you've already tortured yourself?” His head tilts to the side. “You figured it out faster than I thought you would.”

Izaya smiles, thinks of Shiki and Akabayashi coddling him, thinks of Shinra caring about him, of Celty asking him for cooking lessons, sincerely enjoying his presence. And then he thinks of Shizuo.

“People are rarely so nice to me.”

Izaya turns to look as Shizuo marches onto the roof, his uniform jacket tied around his waist. He stops in front of the younger Izaya and picks him up, slams him against the wall before devouring his mouth in a hungry kiss.

“In this universe, Shizuo wasn't in a mood that day. He was happy when he met you, because you were just a little softer, a little less damaged.” Another version of himself appears at his side, watching the scene unfold with indifference.

The roof blurs and disappears, and then it becomes Ikebukuro at night. Izaya watches himself face off with Shizuo, watches them fight, neither of them running or holding back. He recognizes the look on his own face, the look of someone who has nothing left to lose.

“ _Do it, monster.”_

“Here, he really does almost kill you. You wind up in a wheelchair, traumatized. You run away from the city!” Mairu appears, taking the place of Izaya's doppelganger. “You leave it all behind!”

“I've always been a coward,” Izaya says, and the scene dissolves again, is replaced with another.

He watches himself meet Shizuo as a child, watches as another version of himself never meets Shinra, and therefore, is never introduced to Shizuo. He sees a world where his parents are around more, where he doesn't grow up too much, too fast. He sees every possible variation of himself all at once, and he realizes no matter what, even when they aren't together, even when they never meet, every version of Shizuo completes every version of Izaya.

“Do you have regrets?” Kururi asks, appearing by her sister. They look at Izaya, and he smiles, laughs before he can hold it in. He shakes his head.

“I never blamed anyone else, did I? I stayed true to myself no matter what. I didn't let anyone destroy me but me.” Izaya laughs again, his body shaking with the force of it. He falls to his knees, still cackling. “How many people can truly say that?!”

The twins observe him with pitying eyes, and they blur until they're gone, leaving Izaya in Ikebukuro on a sunny morning. He's on the sidewalk, and he turns as he hears hammering footsteps, watches as another version of himself rounds a corner, narrowly avoiding being grabbed by Shizuo, who looks pissed beyond belief. There's the sound of honking, some shouts, a woman screaming, and Shizuo stops abruptly, skids to a halt as he tries to grab Izaya's hood, his eyes wide with fear, and Izaya watches himself step into the middle of the road, solidifying what he already knew: the truck didn't miss him after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left! Thanks for all the support! Trust me, if you made it this far, you'll wanna hang around for what's next!
> 
> My [tumblr!](https://sachigram.tumblr.com/)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "And the earth looked at me and said "Wasn't that fun?"  
> And I replied, "I'm sorry if I hurt anyone."  
> And without even thinking, cast me into space,  
> But before she did that, she wiped off my own face.  
> She said "Better luck next time. Don't worry so much."  
> Without ears I couldn't hear, I could just feel the touch." -- ["When I Was Done Dying"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZqUprA6bKE) by: Dan Deacon

After the swirl of colors dissolves into nothingness, and Izaya can't tell up from down anymore, the first thing he's truly aware of is a bright, all encompassing light. He stares at it through blurry eyes, his lips turned down as he blinks and tries to make sense of it. His fingers twitch, and he looks down at his feet as best as he can, but he can't lift his head very much.

The second thing Izaya notices is that he's not alone.

“Iza-nii!”

He glances to his right and sees Mairu there, her eyes wide. Kururi is on the left, a soft smile on her face. Both of them are crying, and both of them are holding his hands.

“Am...” Izaya croaks. He clears his throat, swallows. “Am I dead?”

“Almost, you dumbass!” Mairu says. She takes the liberty of sitting on Izaya's bed. “You got hit by a truck! We didn't see it, but a lot of people did! They said you flew, and they said there was blood  _ everywhere—“ _

“You died. Then you came back,” Kururi says, her gentle voice somehow cutting through Mairu's passionate spiel.

“Yeah, I was getting to that! A civilian gave you CPR on the scene, and then you got to the hospital and died! But they brought you back. You've been asleep  _ so long.” _

“Coma,” Kururi adds.

“How long?” Izaya asks. His entire body is stiff. He doesn't feel much like himself, but he imagines it might take a while to feel normal again.

“A month! A whole month!” Mairu says. She leans on Izaya and peers up at him. “We didn't call Mom and Dad. Your will said not to unless you died.”

“Oh, good. I don't want to deal with them,” Izaya says. He grimaces. “My throat hurts.”

“Water,” Kururi says, holding up a glass with a straw in it. She holds it still while he drinks.

“You had a tube in your throat. They said it'd be sore when you woke up.” Mairu nuzzles her face into his chest.

“Wow... Who knew you two actually liked me?” he jokes.

“Shut up! Fuck you! We just wanna be there to watch it happen when you die!” Mairu lifts her head and glares at him, her eyes watery. “You gotta pick something way cooler than getting hit by a truck. That’s way too easy!”

“Your crying face is so ugly,” Izaya says, and then he smiles when she starts crying even harder.

“Oh, yeah? So's yours! Yours is uglier!” Mairu swats him, and it's only then Izaya realizes he's crying, too.

“Must be a family trait.” Izaya groans at how heavy his body feels. “I'm still tired.”

“You can sleep again, if you want. But the doctor might want to check you first. Do you remember anything?” Mairu asks.

“A lot of things.” Izaya looks between her and Kururi. “You were dead, weren't you?”

“Huh?” Mairu frowns. “Us?”

“Yeah. You were dead, but then you weren't. We had a funeral.” Izaya struggles to remember details of it, closes his eyes when they become too heavy to deal with. “You haunted me... Was Shizu-chan here?”

“He was there when you got hit... Hey. Iza-nii?”

“Mm?”

He doesn't hear her reply before he falls unconscious once more.

***

Time passes. The first few days, Izaya isn't able to stay awake for long periods of time. Despite being out of it for a month, he feels his sleep wasn't restful, and he slips in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he wakes to the twins at his side, sometimes to the doctor, a stern looking woman with her hair swept in a tight bun. Sometimes there are nurses. Sometimes he's alone.

His injuries were extensive, a long list of things Izaya tunes out because it reminds him too much of Shinra's rambling. The doctor insists he stays a few days for observation, so he spends most of his time bored, but it's better with the twins around. They keep him company when they're not in school, and they don't leave until the hospital staff makes them. Izaya doesn't remember ever spending this much time with them, even when they lived together, and despite his eagerness to leave, he enjoys it. He missed them, he realizes, and he didn't even know how much until he almost died.

One day before he's discharged, he finds himself engrossed in playing Go Fish with them. They're all cheaters, so it erupts into a lot of arguing, and the twins keep ganging up on him, swapping their cards like they think he can't see. Sometimes he allows it, but for the most part, they fight until suddenly hours have gone by.

“Do you have any queens?” Mairu asks during their last game. Visiting hours are almost over, but they asked the nurse if they could finish their current game before the twins leave.

“Go fish,” Izaya says, and she pouts at him.

“Are you  _ lying?” _

“If I  _ was,  _ why would I tell you I was?” Izaya asks. Her eyes narrow suspiciously before she draws from the deck.

“Kururi, do you have any queens?” Izaya asks, and Mairu throws her cards at him.

_ "Cheater!  _ You're a  _ cheater,  _ Iza-nii!”

“Oh, you said  _ queens.  _ I'm sorry, I thought you said something else,” Izaya says, holding her off while she tries to jump on him. Kururi watches with an indulgent expression, and she quietly gathers all the cards back together.

“So you're going home tomorrow?” Mairu asks after she's worn herself out.

“Yes, and it's about time. I hate hospitals. It's the whole reason I have my own doctor,” Izaya says. Shinra hasn't visited, but Izaya isn't surprised. The only one to see him aside from the twins was Namie, who only did so after he blew up her phone and threatened to dock her pay.

“Okay, well we're coming over tomorrow night! And we'll watch movies. You have all the subscription services, anyway. Make sure you buy snacks!” Mairu smiles excitedly, and Izaya scoffs.

“You  _ both  _ have access to all my subscription accounts. You're like parasites. I'll make sure to buy lots of vegetables for you to snack on.”

“No! You better buy good snacks! I mean it!” Mairu raises her fists, and for a brief second, the twins look younger, the way they did when they'd cling to his legs and torture him for hours on end. He blinks and they're back to normal, young women who  _ still  _ torture him for hours on end, though they grew out of clinging to him long ago.

“Okay, okay. Text me what you want,” Izaya relents, leaning back into his bed. Both of them watch him thoughtfully.

“You're being much less of an asshole than normal,” Mairu says. “Is it 'cause we died in your coma dream?”

That's what the twins have taken to calling it, “Izaya's coma dream.” He recounted as much of it as he could to them, excluding the parts about Shizuo for obvious reasons, as well as omitting just how much he missed them. As it turns out, there were some accuracies to the things he dreamed, overlap between the dream and reality. Some of the things he experienced really was because the twins were speaking to him, usually while poking and prodding at him, demanding he wake up. His binder of old poems sits on a little bedside table, brought by Mairu, who read a few of them out loud and threatened to post them online if he didn't wake. Next to the binder are two vases of flowers, one sent by Simon, a coupon for sushi pushed into the stems, and the other sent by Shiki, a brief wish of wellness written on the card that came with it, though Izaya is certain it was for the twins' sake rather than his own. Izaya can recall the brief recognition of a floral scent in his dream.

The parts of his dream that didn't happen were his own torturous thoughts, some of them guilt-related, while others were things he's longed for but would never admit, even to himself. As for Shizuo, Izaya has no idea if Shizuo was ever really there or not. The twins say they don't know, but they think so, as they've seen him around outside the hospital. The nurses say they haven't seen anyone else when Izaya asks, though a few of them have conspiratory smiles he doesn't quite trust.

“Maybe my head injury changed my personality a bit,” Izaya suggests. “Turns out you don't annoy me as much as you normally do, but I reserve the right to change my mind on that.”

“Oh, blah blah. We'll see you tomorrow!” Mairu chirps, and she tackles him in a hug. Kururi joins a moment later, though her embrace is much gentler. They wave at him one more time before leaving him alone. He sighs and picks up his phone, planning to work a little to occupy himself, but someone else peeks into his room.

“Izaya-kun!” Shinra waltzes in, a ditzy smile on his face. “So, you cheated death again, huh? You really are like a cockroach!”

“How wonderful of you to say. Took your time in visiting, didn't you?” Izaya sets his phone down and smirks at Shinra, who rolls his eyes.

“What fun is there in visiting someone in a coma! You wouldn't have known I was here.”

“I've been out of the coma for a few days now. Besides, as it turns out, I  _ was  _ aware of a few things.”

“Really?” A spark of interest lights in Shinra's eyes.

“It was like a fever dream. Everything was just...jumbled. It was a strange experience, like my normal life mixed with nightmares and bits and pieces that didn't add up. I've already forgotten a lot of the details.”

_ "Fascinating!  _ Well, you're not the first to say such things. Some people can wake up speaking an entirely new language, you know? Some people live their lives as normal before finding themselves waking in the hospital.” Shinra takes a seat beside Izaya and pats his arm. “What parts do you remember about your dream?”

“The twins were dead,” Izaya says, looking down at Shinra's hand on his arm. “I couldn't really figure out  _ how  _ they died, and I kept seeing and hearing them even after they were supposed to be gone. It was like the more they haunted me, the more I realized they were actually alive, but no one believed me, and the more things I couldn't make sense of, the more I thought I was crazy.”

“Well, you  _ are  _ crazy, but not because of that. Sounds like some part of your brain knew you had experienced a trauma. It's not surprising you convinced yourself of a death in the family.”

“I thought of the truck a few times, too. Hell, maybe I was trying to tell myself they were the ones who got hit. Who knows?” Izaya sighs. “You were in my dream as well.. Possibly most suspicious of all was you actually being a decent friend for once.”

“What! I'm the best person you know!” Shinra wails.

“That's not saying much, but no, you're still one of the worst.”

“I won't take that personally because of who's  _ saying  _ it. Like you're a good judge of character.” Shinra crosses his arms. “Well. I'm glad you woke up, anyway. As much as you deserve horrible things, you're still my friend. It'd suck if I was suddenly down to one.”

“You're too kind, Shinra.”

“Shizuo-kun has been really...ah. He'd kill me if he knew I was talking about him to you!” Shinra shivers and makes a face. “But it's not like you'll be going out of your way to see him since you've got a broken leg. Not unless you want to go  _ back  _ into a coma.”

“I can't say I enjoyed it all that much,” Izaya says, though he certainly enjoyed certain aspects of it.

“He was pretty distraught. He said he was chasing you when it happened, said he tried to grab you, but it was too late. He hung around until the ambulance got there. I think he blames himself for it,” Shinra says.

“Well, I've gotten him hit twice now. I suppose he owed me one,” Izaya replies, and Shinra clicks his tongue.

“He owes you more than that! But Shizuo-kun is a good person. I'm sure he'll be happy to know you're going to be fine, at least until he kills you himself.”

Izaya keeps his face as impassive as possible, though Shinra has always been the one to see through it. They watch each other for a moment, lapsing into an easy silence. They've always coexisted well together, well enough that Izaya knew the dream Shinra was off, even if he couldn't place why.

“I don't suppose you want to play a quick game of poker, do you?” Izaya asks.

Shinra laughs. “Not with you! You're a cheater. Anyway, I only had a few minutes to drop by. I better be going now.” He stands, puts his hands in his pockets while he hovers.

“I'm going home tomorrow. I guess I'm stuck making dinner for the twins, so you can come mooch off me, if you want.” Izaya swallows, already knows what Shinra will say.

“Nah, I've got plans with Celty. We've gotten even  _ closer  _ and more in love in the month you've been asleep! I'll regale you sometime, since I know my true love gives you inspiration in your life!” Shinra grins, and then he pauses, tilts his head as he scrutinizes Izaya. “What's that look for?”

“Nothing. You're right, you're busy. I'm just still a little loopy,” Izaya says, and Shinra hums thoughtfully.

“Well, get some rest. Allow yourself to heal before you get back to your usual vile ways, and call me if you need! I don't know how often I'll answer, since it depends on what Celty and I are up to, but I'll get back to you.” Shinra smiles once again, and as soon as he came, he's gone.

Izaya shakes his head before he falls back in bed, laughter bubbling up before he can help it. He laughs and laughs, holds his sides when it starts to hurt, but he keeps laughing anyway.

“Vacation's over,” he says to himself, closing his eyes when they start to burn. He rolls to his side and keeps laughing, and when a nurse wanders in to ask if he's alright, he can't quite figure out how to answer.

***

Once he's back home, he begins to feel more like himself. Namie returns with her usual sour attitude, and he's taken by surprise when she volunteers to cook dinner. Usually, he has to torment her, and even then she'll sometimes still mess up the food she makes, usually by making it too sweet or too spicy. He watches her suspiciously as she bustles around, her back to him.

“Am I still in a coma?” he asks, pushing himself away from the desk so he can follow her around in his office chair. She scowls at him.

“I've been off a month, so I've had enough downtime. Besides, I expect overtime for this.”

“Right, that's fine. Hey, make extra, okay? My sisters are coming.” Izaya scoots back to his desk and starts typing, not realizing at first that Namie is staring. “What?” he asks when he finally notices her eyes boring into him.

“I thought you didn't like them?” Namie asks. She puts her hand on her hip. “All you ever talk about is how much they annoy you.”

“Yeah, well, they  _ do  _ annoy me, but they were pretty distraught by all this. I'll let them hang around until they remember they can't stand me.”

“Shouldn't take too long, then.”

“You can stay for dinner too, if you want. Mairu thinks you're pretty since she doesn't know any better.” Izaya leers at Namie, who looks very much like she swallowed a lemon.

“No thanks. Your sisters are almost as creepy as you,” she says.

“Ah. Well, the invitation is still extended.”

“Look at you, all hospitable. Never would've pegged you as the generous type.” She turns her back to him, and his grin stretches wider.

“As if you'd  _ peg  _ anyone other than dear _ Seiji-kun.” _

She drops the spoon she's holding and stomps towards him, and since he can't run, he winds up scooting around in his chair, cackling as she slaps at him and chases after him, yelling about what a horrible pervert he is.

***

A month later, Izaya is meeting with Shiki about a job. Shiki has opted to come to him, since Izaya is still recovering, and Shiki can be surprisingly accommodating when he wants to be. Shiki arrives with two men who stand on either side of Izaya's door, and Shiki enters the apartment, bowing to Namie when she lets him in. He raises a hand when Izaya starts to stand.

“No need. You're in a cast, after all.”

“Thank you, Shiki-san,” Izaya says, leaning back into the couch.

“You look well.” Shiki walks to a cushy chair he favors during his visits. Izaya had Namie help him move it in front of the couch just for this meeting. “I hope your injuries aren't still bothering you?”

“Ah, just the leg. It broke in a couple of places, so the cast is on for at least another month.”

Namie returns then, places a cup of tea on the coffee table for Shiki, bowing before she goes back to the desk.

“My  _ lovely  _ secretary really makes this all so much easier. I'm truly blessed,” Izaya quips, and when she cuts her eyes at him, he winks.

“I hope she's being paid extra,” Shiki says, picking up his tea. He blows on it, watches Izaya with an amused expression.

“Oh, of course. She insists.” Izaya crosses his good leg over the cast. The worst part of it all is the  _ itching _ . He can't reach inside the cast, and he's had an itch for the better part of the day.

“I'm glad you're doing well. We have other sources, but I admit you're one of the more pleasant to interact with,” Shiki drawls.

“What a compliment! Comparing me to the scum of the city is cruel, Shiki-san!” Izaya laughs. “I wanted to thank you for the flowers. I know you and Akabayashi-san checked in with my sisters while I was out. They kept the flowers you sent, dried them and made them into bookmarks. I'm glad to know they weren't alone.”

“Your sisters have quite a few friends, all seemingly older than they are,” Shiki says. “I often spot them around the city traversing with the wrong sort of crowd.”

“Family trait,” Izaya responds with a smile. “There are too many things to get involved with in the city, after all. At least they have people looking out for them.”

“It's heartening to hear you care for them. Usually you're so detached, Izaya-san.”

“You think so? We're just not an emotional family. Rest assured, I watch out for them in my own way. I keep them from kidnapping famous actors, at any rate.” Izaya reaches beside him, places a folder on the table for Shiki. Izaya spends most of his time online, but there's something so charming about paper files. He's glad to know Shiki feels the same.

“You're already done?” Shiki asks, leaning forward to take the folder. He looks impressed. “You've hit the ground running, Izaya-san. Ah...in a manner of speaking.”

“Hit the ground limping, at the very least.”

“Thank you. Akabayashi-san will be happy to put some hoodlums in their place. He's been getting antsy. It's been quiet without you around.”

“Coincidence, I'm sure! I'm happy to hear the city was quiet while I was in the hospital. I'd hate to miss too much excitement.” Izaya falls silent as Shiki reads over the papers. The TV is on, but it's muted. A home improvement show is playing.

“Very good, Izaya-san,” Shiki says, standing. “Sorry I can't stay and finish the tea, but I have work to do.”

“No apologies necessary. I hope you'll forgive me for not walking you out?” Izaya says, and Shiki arches a brow at him.

“I've excused you for more, haven't I? Get well soon, Izaya-san.”

Shiki leaves with the men, and Izaya uncrosses his legs, flops dramatically into the cushions.

“God, how pompous. Being in a room full of men in the middle of a 'Mine's Bigger Than Yours' contest is the worst,” Namie drawls from the desk.

“Oh no worries, Namie! Yours was definitely the biggest in the room!” Izaya looks up at the ceiling as he puts his arms behind his head. “We should order lunch.”

“You're not going to insist I cook for you today?” Namie asks.

“I'm craving ootoro! I haven't had it in so long. Doesn't Russia Sushi sound good?”

“I'll order it,” Namie says. “Can't risk you changing your mind, after all. I'd rather not have to make anything.”

“You can have Simon deliver it. We both have too much work to do to leave the office. As it turns out, I have a coupon!”

Simon arrives about an hour later with his usual booming voice and blinding smile. He waltzes inside and places his giant hand on Izaya’s shoulder.

“Izaya! Good to see you. I heard you lost fight to truck!”

“Oh, yes, it was a close one. Thanks for the flowers,” Izaya replies.

“Flowers good for health, but sushi better. I'm glad you used coupon!” Simon hands the bag to Izaya and waves joyfully at Namie, who waves back before going into the kitchen to grab drinks.

“Would you like anything before you're off, Simon? I have some bottled tea,” Izaya says.

“No, no. It busy day. I best get back.” Simon looks closely at Izaya and gives him a smile. The next time he speaks, it's in Russian.  _ “I don't guess this near death experience changed you much?” _

_ "Of course not. A tiger never changes his stripes, does he?”  _ Izaya says, also in Russian.

_ "No, he doesn't. I hope you return to the city soon, Izaya. It misses you. But I also hope you don't mess it up too much. I love the city.” _

_ "As do I, Simon.” _

Namie returns and hands Izaya a glass of iced tea. She sits in the chair Shiki vacated and opens the bag, passing Izaya his food before opening her own container. She frowns.

“We didn't order all of this,” she says.

“On house for pretty lady and Izaya!” Simon says, and then he bows to her. “Get well gift.”

“Thank you,” Izaya says, happy with all the extra sushi. He pauses. “No specials, right?”

“No. We know you picky.” Simon offers one last smile before he makes his way out. He stops when he reaches the door, turns to look at Izaya over his shoulder. “Shizuo was there today. He asked about you.”

“Did he?” Izaya asks, keeping his face neutral. That was definitely the kind of thing Simon could have said in Russian, so he knows there's a reason Simon said it where Namie could understand.

“He troubled by what happened. You should call him, make amends. You two have been fighting so long.”

“Shizu-chan knows where to find me. He also has my number. Trust me when I say I have no desire to see or speak to him, especially with my leg the way it is,” Izaya says, and then he eats a piece of ootoro, keeping his back to Simon.

“I see,” Simon says.  _ “Tigers are not cowards, Izaya.” _

He leaves before Izaya can respond.

“What was that about? Even Simon knows about your monster crush? How pathetic _ are _ you?” Namie asks. She never looks as happy as she does while being antagonistic. Izaya likes that about her.

“It's not exactly a secret Shizu-chan hates me. Apparently we're a bit of an urban legend around here.” He withholds a comment about Seiji, knowing they'll only bicker back and forth. Mealtimes are meant to be enjoyable, and Izaya doesn't want either of their bitterness to taint the food.

The door bursts open suddenly, halting the conversation.. Namie jumps, almost dropping her takeout, but Izaya has gotten used to Mairu's grandiose entrances by now. She gallops inside, Kururi trailing behind her, and she pounces on Izaya from behind, leaping over the back of the couch.

“I-za-nii!” she sing-songs, and then she steals a piece of his sushi. “We're staying the night tonight! We didn't ask first, since you might've made some excuse for us not to.”

“Great,” Izaya says. Kururi rounds the couch to come sit beside him, and he hands her the takeout bag.

“Oh, guess who we saw today!” Mairu chirps, rearranging herself to sit on Izaya's other side. Her legs kick out, shaking the whole couch. “Shizuo-san! He was working with that guy and that pretty girl! He asked us about you, and I told him if he wanted to know, he should see you himself, and you know what?! He didn't get mad! Isn't that amazing?!” She bounces in place.

“Mairu,” Kururi says calmly, and Mairu stops moving as if she's been shocked, looks wary of Kururi, probably due to the spray bottle Kururi keeps for these occasions.

“Since when did everyone decide to mention that moron to me so cavalierly? I thought we all knew not to mention us to each other,” Izaya says, and Namie rolls her eyes while the twins both sigh in unison.

“Iza-nii, how are you this stupid?” Mairu asks, and Izaya glowers at her.

“All men are stupid,” Namie replies.

“Oh yeah? Even your  _ darling _ brother?” Izaya asks her, and rather than react to it the way he hoped she would, she just shrugs slightly.

“Sure. He's with that bimbo, after all.”

***

By the time Izaya gets the cast removed, he's so pent up with extra energy that his skin feels as if it's vibrating.

He hasn't stayed locked inside the entire time by any means, but he's had to be careful and on guard, usually accompanied by Namie or Shiki's men, who generously drive him to and from headquarters when Shiki is too busy to meet at Izaya's apartment. Izaya hasn't been able to go off by himself the way he likes, and he definitely hasn't done any work outside of his office, not wanting to risk being injured again while he's been on the mend. If there's anything Izaya hates about humans, it's their limitations, and that goes double for his own.

He opts to have Shinra remove the cast rather than go anywhere else. Shinra's chatter is obnoxious, but he's more convenient to deal with the majority of the time. He's cheerful as he works, prattling on and on about Celty, speaking so fast that Izaya can hardly decipher any of it, not that he's trying very hard to.

“There we go! All finished!” Shinra says happily when the cast is fully off.

_ "Finally,”  _ Izaya groans, reaching down to scratch at his skin. “It's been driving me insane.”

“So what now?” Shinra asks. “You're all healed. It's like the accident never happened.”

“I wouldn't say that. I certainly remember it well.”

“What about the dream you had? Do you still remember it?”

“Parts of it,” Izaya says. “Some of it's fuzzy, but I remember highlights.”

“You got off easy, but I'm sure you know that. Fate's always been kinder to you than you deserve!” Shinra stands and stretches before he gathers his things. “You should talk to Shizuo-kun, by the way. He's been moping around lately, and it's intruding on my time with Celty!”

_ "Why  _ does everyone insist I speak to that imbecile?” Izaya asks with a grimace.

“Because you want to, and because he wants you to.” Shinra grins and closes his briefcase. “Sometimes things really are that simple, Izaya-kun.”

***

It's business as usual after the cast comes off. Izaya leaves Namie to handle the paperwork and the computer files, and he roams around the city, happily resuming his usual activities. He's on his way to a cafe to grab some coffee when he sees a familiar van parked across the street, anime girl on the door shining as if she was just washed. Izaya chuckles to himself and makes his way over, lifting his hand in greeting when the van's occupants notice him.

“Izayan!” Kawisawa launches out the door and is in front of Izaya before he can so much as blink. You're all better! Did your brain get scrambled in the accident? Have you seen the error of your ways?”

“Rest assured, if anything, I'm worse now,” Izaya says, and she grins at him.

“You look well, Izaya,” Kadota says.

“Aw, Dota-chin, don't flirt with me in public! I'm shy, you know?” Izaya asks, batting his lashes playfully. Kadota rolls his eyes, clearly trying to hide a smile.

“Tell me, Izayan, is it true Shizu-Shizu was there when you got hit?” Kawisawa asks, yanking on Izaya's arm. He frowns at her, worried she'll rip his coat sleeve. “Did he carry you to safety? Did he give you mouth to mouth?! I need to know! Paint the picture for me! So there you are, injured, gasping for air, and in your line of sight, before it goes all dark, you see him, the man of your dreams, crying and gripped with fear at the very thought of losing you—!”

“Kawisawa-chan, you've got quite an imagination,” Izaya says, tugging his arm free from her. “I can't tell you what happened, unfortunately. I was a little busy trying not to die.”

“If you don't know, that means I could be right!” she shouts, practically foaming at the mouth. A hand reaches out of the van and grabs the back of her collar, tugging her inside.

“She's been like this since it happened,” Yumasaki says, poking his head out and giving Izaya a little wave. “She's asked Shizuo too, but he won't answer her at all, so she's just been going wild with the theories. She wrote a story where Shizuo was on a horse when he saved you.”

“A  _ horse?” _ Izaya asks.

“It's not impossible! Celty-san has a horse, and they’re friends!” Kawisawa shrieks, and then the van shakes as she grapples with Yumasaki. Kadota sighs before he hops out of the van and slides the door closed on them.

“So you're doing better?” he asks.

“Can't complain. Should I take it personally that you didn't visit me?”

“They were only allowing family when I tried. We spent some time with your sisters, though. Made sure they were eating and gave them rides home when visiting hours were over. They were pretty messed up over the whole thing.”

“I'm glad they had some friends around. They're still being a little clingy, but I suppose that's understandable.”

Kadota grins and puts his hand on Izaya's shoulder. “Maybe the truck  _ did  _ scramble your brain, huh? You're being nice to your sisters. Never thought I'd see the day.”

Izaya shrugs. “They're not so bad as long as they don't get splashed with water or fed after midnight.”

Kadota laughs loudly, and Izaya smirks up at him.

“So what brings you here, Dota-chin? Did you need a caffeine fix, too?” Izaya asks.

“Nah, Togusa is in the store over there. Some kind of magazine article on Hijiribe Ruri. He's still obsessed with her. I'm sure he knows all there is to know, but he buys everything they release on her anyway.”

“How tragic for him she's taken,” Izaya says.

“He'll get over it. Hey— Do me a favor okay? Between us. Wait a while before you fuck with Shizuo again. He's working through some stuff,” Kadota says.

“I've got no desire to see him, believe me. It's more likely he'll spot me and attack all on his own.”

“I dunno, man. He's pretty messed up about what happened to you. Maybe you guys could use this as an opportunity to finally bury the hatchet. It's been peaceful lately.”

“The natural state of things isn't 'peaceful'. Something will happen whether I'm involved or not,” Izaya replies. “Besides, Shizu-chan will get over whatever he's working through, and he'll be the one to throw the first punch, just like always.”

Kadota makes a face. “I really,  _ really  _ don't want to prove Erika right here, so all I'm gonna say is that Shizuo isn't acting like someone who saw the person he hates most almost get killed. He's acting like he almost lost someone important to him. Maybe you guys should talk, at least. I'm not saying you’ll be all buddy-buddy, but it's worth a shot, right? I know you don't hate Shizuo as much as you claim to. You're actually pretty easy to read.”

“Am I?” Izaya asks. “Careful, Dota-chin, you're making a lot of assumptions.”

“Somehow, I think I can take you if I had to.” Kadota ruffles Izaya's hair, and Izaya huffs, shoves Kadota away, and tries to straighten his hair with his fingers. “I mean it, okay? Just talk to the guy. Shizuo is level-headed when he wants to be. Just don't piss him off and he’ll listen.”

“You're giving me an impossible task, you know?” Izaya mutters petulantly.

“Yeah, but you're smart. You'll figure it out.” Kadota smiles and crosses his arms before he chuckles softly. “You crazy kids.”

“Just kiss him when you see him!” Kawisawa shouts, and Izaya looks up to see her face pressed in the window of the front seat. “Words don't matter! It's about the  _ passion!” _

“Christ.” Kadota grumbles and shakes his head. “I'm really never gonna get a moment of peace if she's right about this.”

“As if you've ever been a huge fan of peace,” Izaya says. “Personally, I find it to be overrated.” He waves before he makes his way over to the cafe, and when he looks back at the van through the window, he sees Kadota and Yumasaki fighting to hold Kawisawa down, and when Togusa returns to the van, he takes one look at the scene before turning and walking away.

***

Funnily enough, Izaya sees Shizuo again at Sunshine 60.

Izaya is finishing up a meeting with a client, exiting the restaurant when he spots Shizuo walking past with Tom. He wonders if Shizuo is there for work, but it's more likely they're just hanging out. Tom and Shizuo are actually friends more than coworkers, and Izaya keeps in mind that Vorona might be lurking around too, as fixated on Shizuo as she is. Rather than approach as he's always done, Izaya stays still and waits for them to pass, and as soon as they're out of sight, Izaya finds himself taking the familiar path to the roof.

It's a clear night out, and it's  _ freezing. _ Izaya huddles into his coat and stands near the edge, looking down at the specks of light below. So many people, all of them living their lives, and despite their numbers, Izaya finds he feels alone. Part of him wishes he bought a bottle of sake along, but it would've just been for the sake of nostalgia. Izaya still tries hard not to think of the dream, but like most things to do with Shizuo, Izaya finds it creeping into his mind often. He sighs loudly, watches his breath cloud in front of him.

“Why the hell am I mourning something that never even happened?” he mutters. The twins are alive, he's alive. In the end, that's all that really matters, right? Everything else is just remnants from a dream.

He tenses when the door opens behind him. He already knows who it has to be, but he's surprised all the same to see Shizuo there, hands in his pockets, a weary look on his face.

“Shizu-chan, what a surprise. Did you follow me?” Izaya feels the weight of his knives in his pockets, and they comfort him. This is the real Heiwajima Shizuo, one who hates Izaya and wants him dead, one who chased him into the path of an incoming truck, intentional or not. Izaya can't let his guard down.

“Haven't seen you in a while,” Shizuo says. He's not wearing his shades for once, Izaya notes. Shizuo's eyes are oddly earnest when they're not covered and aren’t full of rage. That's one detail Izaya got right in his dream, at least.

“Aren't you always telling me to stay out of the city? Maybe all it took was a truck ramming into me to make me listen. Really drove the threat home.” Izaya sits on the ledge, facing Shizuo, his back to the abyss below.

“Don't,” Shizuo growls. “Don't make it into a joke.”

“Why not? It's kind of funny, isn't it? Some part of you must think I deserved it. I certainly think I did.” Izaya tilts his head to the side, studying Shizuo. “What's eating you, Shizu-chan? Usually you would've launched at me by now. Look, I'm even on the edge of the building! I've made myself an easy target for you!”

“I said to fucking  _ quit it!”  _ Shizuo shouts. His voice echoes around them. “I didn't come here to fight with you, okay? For fuck's sake, flea, you almost died in front of me, so stop being an asshole for once in your life and  _ listen  _ to me, 'cause I have shit to say.”

Izaya mimes zipping his lips, and then he gestures for Shizuo to keep talking. Shizuo glowers at him, seeming to be on the edge of some kind of breakdown. It's fascinating, and Izaya feels the innate urge to keep pushing Shizuo towards that edge, eternally curious as he is to observe results.

“Well? Are you going to talk, or is the fact you're having thoughts at all making you short-circuit?”

“I  _ hate  _ you,” Shizuo says in response, and Izaya wonders if this is supposed to be profound in any way. “I really do, okay? I hate you so fucking much that it keeps me up at night. Every problem I've had, every time some fucker comes at me with a weapon, all I think about is  _ you,  _ and how you probably had something to do with it. You're a terrible fucking person, and I've spent years thinking of how I wanted to kill you, how much better my city would be without you in it.”

Izaya keeps his face impassive as Shizuo starts pacing. Clearly Shizuo is experiencing enough emotion for both of them, after all. It looks exhausting.

“I told myself at first that no matter what happened to you, whether you woke up or not, that I didn't care. I didn't  _ want  _ to care. It was what you deserved, and maybe you actually deserved  _ worse,  _ but goddammit, Izaya, I keep reliving that day over and over again, and all I can think of is how I wasn't fast enough to save you.” Shizuo stops pacing, turns and looks at Izaya, a helpless look in his eyes. The strongest man in Ikebukuro, helpless. What a thought.

“I see,” Izaya says, not really knowing how else to respond. “So you feel guilty.”

“'Guilty' doesn't seem strong enough,” Shizuo says, back to pacing. “I don't feel responsible, I don't feel like it was my fault, I just—“ He pauses, throws his hands in the air, and growls in frustration. “It felt like a  _ waste,  _ Izaya.”

“Because you wanted to kill me yourself?” Izaya prompts.

_"No,_ because it was too fucking easy, too fast for that to be the end!” Shizuo snarls and exhales deeply before continuing. “You know, all that time I chased after you, and you were never scared. You came back over and over, and I never even thought about what I'd do if I actually caught you. It was just a goal, one of those things you tell yourself to keep you going, but I think... I think I was _happy_ you kept coming back, in some weird, fucked up way. You were the only one who kept fighting with me no matter what. I _hated_ it, but I think it was...a comfort, too. I got used to you coming back. I thought you always would.”

Izaya thinks of the Shizuo in his dream, the one who laughed and toasted his whiskey mockingly to Izaya.  _ “You're the most stable thing in my life.” _

“Part of me kept waiting for you to show up and say it was all a joke. I didn't...  _ Fuck.”  _ Shizuo groans, makes a violent gesture with his hands. “I didn't want to think about you actually being gone.”

“Tell me, Shizu-chan, did you come to see me in the hospital?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo looks up at him sharply, an oddly bashful expression on his face. “Would you believe me if I said I could feel you there?” Izaya remembers the comforting pressure of a hand in his, one too large to be either of his sisters'.

“Shinra said you dreamed...” Shizuo mutters. “Said you woke up spouting some shit about the twins being dead.”

“It was my life, but it wasn't. There were details that didn't add up, and the people around me were... _ wrong.  _ Not necessarily better or worse, but not themselves. I found myself surrounded by others, and wouldn't you know it, that's when I realized it couldn't be real.” Izaya leans back a bit, crosses his legs in front of him. Shizuo looks on warily, as if prepared to leap forward in case Izaya leans back any further. “I was forced to take a good look at things, at various versions of my life, like hundreds of mirrors surrounding me. It was like being inside a telescope.” Izaya forces a smile. “Part of me didn't want to wake up.”

Shizuo sighs softly, and he steps forward, takes the liberty of sitting beside Izaya on the ledge. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out his cigarettes.

“So what now?” he asks.

“Well. I suppose this is the part where I tell you that your feelings are a normal trauma response to what you saw. I could've been anyone, Shizu-chan, and you would've felt just as guilty because you were there to see it happen,” Izaya says.

“Fuck that, it wasn't  _ anyone.  _ It was you.” Shizuo lights his cigarette and inhales deeply. “You were just so  _ lifeless,  _ folded all wrong like a ball of paper. I got your fucking blood on me.” His head tilts slightly towards Izaya, though he keeps staring forward. “It was you, flea.”

“Mm. So it was.”

“You're being weirdly understanding about all this. I kind of thought you were gonna throw a knife or something when you saw me,” Shizuo says, flicking some ashes away.

“I'm not ruling it out,” Izaya promises. He turns to Shizuo and smiles at Shizuo's perplexed little frown. “I suppose I'm just not surprised. To me, this isn't our first conversation about this.”

“Huh? What, was I in your dream or something?”

“You were. You were there more than anyone else, if you can believe it.”

Shizuo's face flushes, and he coughs slightly on his next exhale.

“You know,” Izaya begins, “I'm not sure exactly what it was I experienced. I can say it was a dream, but at the same time, it could've been a glimpse into another universe, another timeline. I saw so many things, some of them I can't remember clearly, but I remember you being there. It made me happy, Shizu-chan, and it was hard to know you wouldn't be there anymore when I woke up.”

Shizuo stiffens, his fingers clenching around the cigarette until it snaps. He curses when it burns him, and he throws it away with an angry little huff before he turns back to Izaya.

“I had dreams, too,” he says. “Nothing as weird as yours. Mostly just about us in high school, I guess since that's the most time we ever spent together. I kept wondering how different things might be if we ever tried to get along.”

“'What if' is a dangerous question, isn't it? Let's consider it progress that we're sitting here now.” Izaya smirks at Shizuo, who immediately narrows his eyes in suspicion. “Shizu-chan _ missed _ me.”

“I did  _ not,”  _ Shizuo says defensively, and then his eyes widen as if the thought only just now crossed his mind. “Or...I did? Fuck. I think maybe I did.”

“You don't  _ know?”  _ Izaya asks, and he can't help but laugh at the bewildered expression on Shizuo's face. It's been so long since he's laughed like this, without bitterness or malice. It really is just  _ funny. _

“Fuck you! Stop laughing!” Shizuo glowers, seeming to sink into himself when Izaya only laughs harder. “You're the worst. I hate you, I really do.”

“Then why did you  _ miss me?” _ Izaya lilts, and Shizuo crosses his arms, looking pointedly anywhere but at Izaya.

“Maybe I'll still kill you. Shitty flea, you piss me off,” Shizuo mutters, mostly to himself. Izaya can hear his teeth grinding.

“Relax, would you? I missed you, too.”

In an instant, all the anger drains away from Shizuo's face. He turns to Izaya, his mouth slightly open in surprise.

“You were with me, but it wasn't really you. I missed  _ my  _ Shizu-chan! Another is no good for me.” Izaya stands and stretches, aware Shizuo's eyes are still on him. He takes a few steps towards the roof entrance.

“Wha... Hey! Where are you going?” Shizuo asks, following after, as always.

“It's cold. I'm  _ cold.”  _ Izaya stops abruptly and turns to face Shizuo, who stops just short of ramming into him. “Let's go get a drink somewhere warm.”

“Like, uh. Like a date?” Shizuo clearly has all the experience of a fumbling teenager, and it's so charming somehow, so unlike the Shizuo in Izaya's mind, and that's enough for Izaya to know this is really happening.

“Yes. Like a date.”

Shizuo smiles, and Izaya finds he doesn't mind that he can't recall what the other Shizuo felt like or smelled like, doesn't mind having to learn it all over again. All that matters is this: Shizuo walking behind Izaya, holding onto the back of his coat with a gentle hand, directing him to a bar down the street that has a special on half-priced bloody marys. Shizuo laughs, says it's perfect for a flea like Izaya, and Izaya savors every second of it, orders a bloody mary just to make Shizuo laugh harder.

In another universe, they never come near the truck, and life resumes as normal. In another, Izaya doesn't confront Shizuo that day, and Shizuo never knows Izaya is in the city. In another, Izaya is killed instantly, and in another still, he never wakes up, and Shizuo is consumed by grief he can't explain, and a confession he'll never voice.

But in  _ this  _ universe, Shizuo sits in a cozy booth across from Izaya, their feet touching under the table as they talk and laugh together until the bartender is closing down. They step outside, and Izaya turns to leave, is startled when Shizuo's hand grips the back of Izaya's coat and tugs him closer. Izaya laughs delightedly, and he tugs Shizuo along to Shinjuku while Shizuo tries very hard to look annoyed by it. They wind up sprawled together on Izaya’s couch, TV playing lowly in the background, and when they wake up curled into each other, Izaya smiles sleepily, lifts his hand to Shizuo’s cheek, and kisses Shizuo as easily as if he’s done so a thousand times, and will do so a thousand times more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of this little story! Thanks for reading and for all the lovely comments here and also on tumblr. It always means a lot to hear everyone's theories and opinions. It's a super difficult time for so many of us, so I'm glad we can have some respite from all the fuckery. I think next I'll be working on a few one-shots, so I'll definitely be around! Happy spooky month, everyone!
> 
> my [tumblr!](https://sachigram.tumblr.com/)


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